


Like Shooting Stars

by heyacas (lilypond)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Bisexual Dean, Canon-Typical Violence, Community: deancasbigbang, DCBB, Dean/Cas Big Bang Challenge 2014, Frottage, Grey-Asexual Castiel, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-27
Updated: 2014-11-27
Packaged: 2018-02-27 06:11:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 41,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2682083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilypond/pseuds/heyacas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a society where magical talent defines who you are, Castiel Novak has none. It might not be so bad if his family supported him for who he is, but public opinion is everything, and Castiel is bad publicity. His only real support comes from his twin sister, Anna, until the night he meets Dean and his brother, Sam. Despite the brothers’ dark pasts, Castiel finds in them the friendship and family he’s never been allowed to have, and the strength to begin a life of his own.</p><p>But Castiel’s family isn’t going to let him go so easily. They have a reputation to uphold, after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First off, I can't believe I actually did it. This is literally the longest thing I've ever successfully finished writing, and I've been writing since before I can remember.
> 
> Second, thanks to my own personal [Chandra](http://itsdrsexy.tumblr.com) for being my absolute biggest supporter in general and for her feedback on this specifically.
> 
> And to my incredible artist [dreym](http://nikoshine.tumblr.com) who was everything I could have wished for and more. I am still in awe of everything that she's created. [Art masterpost is here.](http://dreymart.tumblr.com/post/103736214224/like-shooting-stars-fandom-genre-supernatural-au)
> 
> Come find me [on tumblr](http://lilypond.co.vu)!

_I'm like a shooting star, I've come so far_

_I can't go back to where I used to be_

—————

It wasn’t like he hadn't _tried,_ of course _._ He'd done everything right. He’d taken the special vitamins every day for four years, read every book he’d had shoved in front of him, done all the exercises. He’d come at it from every angle and gotten absolutely nowhere.

It just hadn't happened, and Castiel was okay with that. He had made his peace with it years ago.

“We have a 97% success rate,” the man in the neat black suit was saying with a wide, shark-like grin.

_Do people really have that many teeth?_ Castiel thought, absently running his tongue over his own. He never had paid that much attention in his health lessons. People were so much less interesting than animals.

“Casti _el_ ,” his mother snapped, jolting him out of his thoughts.

“Mm? Oh. No, I'm sorry, I’m really not interested.”

“You haven't even been _listening,”_ she sighed. “If you'd just give it a chance...”

Castiel shook his head. “I'm fine the way I am. I wish you could see that.”

She looked like she was going to cry, which would probably have made him feel bad if he didn't know it was entirely faked for the sake of the Institute representative shifting uncomfortably on the stiff leather couch.

“Castiel,” she said, her voice breaking. “We love you just as you are, but the world is so _cruel_ to the powerless. We’re trying so hard to help you, if you’d only let us in.”

“You see?” the representative said brightly. “We’re all on your side, son. You're still so young, you could have a bright future ahead of you. We’ve worked with far more protracted cases than yours, you know. Sometimes it just takes a little push! Don't give up on yourself so easily.”

Castiel tilted his head and narrowed his eyes at the man. _He's probably very good at his job,_ he thought. Castiel disliked him immensely.

“I haven't given up on myself. I've given up on _magic_. I’m not defined by my lack of power, you know.”

The door opened just as Castiel's mother began to protest again, and Anna swept in. Castiel sighed in relief.

Anna took one look at the representative and practically growled. She grabbed Castiel by the arm and led him upstairs, ignoring their mother's artfully faked sobbing fading behind them.

  
“God, Cassie, you don't have to put up with that shit,” she said, pulling him into their room and slamming the door behind them. She dumped her backpack on her bed, where it blended in nicely with the pile of unwashed clothes and crumpled papers. Castiel couldn't remember the last time she was home at night to sleep in it, anyway.

Instead they curled up on Castiel's bed, leaning back on his pillows.

“It doesn't bother me too much anymore,” he said with a shrug. “I mostly just tune it out.”

“Well, it bothers me,” she growled. “They act like...they act like you're _broken_ or something. It's not right. You're still _you_ , with or without magic.”

Castiel tilted his head to the side to smile at her. “I've still got you,” he said. “That's enough for me.”

“You'll _always_ have me,” she said, taking his hand and squeezing it tightly. While Castiel had never been an especially physically affectionate person, Anna had always been the exception. Her touch had never failed to calm and center him, even before her powers had manifested.

She reached her other hand out and paused a few inches from his cheek, a questioning expression on her face. He smiled and nodded. He had never said no to her, but she would also never use her powers on anyone without asking first, and he loved her that much more for it.

When her hand met his skin, he closed his eyes and let the emotions ripple through him. The soft blue of _calm_ washed over his mind, undertoned with flecks of rose pink where her love for him bled through. He let the waves overtake him, let his own thoughts and worries stream away.

[ ](http://i.imgur.com/nGiwesw.jpg)

_Every emotion, even the bad ones,_ she's said, but he’s not sure how she knows that. He doesn't think she has ever had the need or desire to inflict painful emotions on anyone. She uses her gift mainly to keep the peace at home, when she's actually around, soothing anger and healing hurts. The career counselors have told her she would shine as a therapist. They're right, as far as Castiel is concerned, but that's more to do with her years of experience trying to keep her siblings from killing each other than her magical gifts.

She came into her powers when she was 11 — a little earlier than most, maybe, but not unusually so. It had made the headlines, though, the little Novak prodigy, Anna’s sweet, angelic face smiling out from the front page of every paper for weeks. Everyone had assumed Castiel would follow soon after – it was generally expected that twins would reach magical maturity at about the same time. When the news of Anna’s presentation had grown stale, the papers turned to speculation on what sort of talent the final Novak child would manifest.

But their 21st birthday had been six months ago, and Castiel still showed no signs of powers of any sort.

Anna was the only one who respected his decision to stop fighting for it. Anna was the only one who didn't look at him with pity or disappointment.

As though she could feel him dwelling on the issue – though she swore she couldn't read minds – the pulse of affection grew inside him, until it overtook the blue and all he could feel was her warmth, her fierce protectiveness and love singing through his veins. Finally she let the colors fade as she withdrew from his mind. They’d found out the hard way that her powers could be _too_ relaxing if used for too long – instead of helping Michael stay calm for an exam at law school, she accidentally put him into a safe, peaceful, but very inconvenient brief coma.

“I'm going out tonight,” Anna said once she’d recovered and opened her eyes, stretching and rolling onto her back again.

“You're always out,” Castiel deadpanned. “In other news, the sky is blue and researchers have finally confirmed that water is wet.”

She smacked him lightly on the shoulder and glared, but ruined the effect by laughing.

“And people say you have no sense of humor. No, jerk, I'm going _out_. As in, to a _club_. You should come with me.”

Castiel stared blankly. “Why would I do that?”

“To avoid a long, awkward dinner with that asshole downstairs? To spend some quality time with the best sister in the world? I don't know, to get laid?”

Castiel frowned. “Anna...”

“Sorry,” she smiled softly. “I mean, to spend some quality time with the best sister in the world and help _her_ get laid?”

He shook his head, but smiled. “I wouldn't even know what to wear.”

She grinned wickedly. Castiel’s mind drifted to sharks again, but maybe a nicer-looking shark. The instructor was a goblin shark. Anna was maybe a leopard shark.

He let her lead him quietly down the hall and into Gabriel's room, which was, as usual, empty.

“There'll be something in here that'll fit you, he never gets rid of anything,” Anna said, already rifling through his closet and tossing things on the floor. “And underneath all the crap, he actually gets some decent clothes. He just refuses to put them _together_ in a way even remotely approaching fashionable.”

“I resent that,” the pillows said.

Anna rolled her eyes. “If you're here already then come help me. We're finding something for Castiel to wear to the club with me.”

“Ooh, clubbing,” the pillows said, shimmering as they turned back into Gabriel. “Can I come?”

“You gonna steal any girls from me tonight?”

“I won't. Promise. Swear it on my mother's grave.”

“That only works with people you're not related to, idiot,” Anna sighed. “Fine. Get your ass over here and help.”

Castiel sat on the edge of the bed and waited, mostly tuning out their heated debates. If it weren't for what awaited him downstairs if he stayed, there's no way he'd be going out. He hated noise, hated crowds, hated how _humid_ a room full of people could get — and that was only at the town meetings he was occasionally dragged to. He could only imagine how much worse a nightclub would be — and he'd end up, eventually, sitting alone in the corner until he decided to walk home, he was sure.

It's not that Anna would ever intentionally abandon him, of course. He was sure she'd stay by his side for the entire night if he let her. But like hell was Castiel going to let her ruin her night out to babysit him. So he was sure he'd end up convincing her he was fine, she'd finally go after the girl she'd been eyeing all night, and she'd call in the morning to let him know she was okay.

Gabriel, though, might insist on sticking with him for all the worst reasons. Anna could respect the fact that he wasn't interested in sex – if he ever found someone he was attracted to, maybe, but that hadn't happened yet and he had no interest in chasing after it – even if she did forget sometimes. At least she tried. _Gabriel_ took it as a challenge.

“Stand up, Cassie,” Gabriel said.

Castiel sighed and stood, facing the nearest mirror. Anna held up outfit after outfit as Gabriel twirled his fingers in the air, trying each out on Castiel until they were satisfied. He waved a hand, dissipating the last illusion, and shoved the real clothes into Castiel's arms.

“Now go get dressed so we can get out of here.”

“It's _four in the afternoon,_ ” Castiel grumbled, but went.

—————

It was uncomfortable, sometimes, being a Novak. He would have been content to wait in line like everyone else — the people Gabriel only half-jokingly called “the civilians” — but Anna laughed at that and tugged him along with her to the front of the line, where they were let right inside. Gabriel winked and blew kisses at the people they passed, but Castiel kept his head down. Not all of those stares were of admiration or jealousy. Novak meant powerful, but it didn't necessarily mean _popular._

He was a little more comfortable inside, at least, where the low lighting allowed him a bit more anonymity. Gabriel was keeping himself lit, surrounding himself with a subtle glow that he said made him stand out from the crowd and Anna said made him look like radioactive waste. She still allowed him to coat her with a lighter version of the same illusion, not enough to illuminate but enough so that what light there was clung to her just a little more than everyone around her.

However much Castiel asked, though, Gabriel would not cast an illusion to make him less noticeable. He should probably feel grateful Gabriel didn't light him up like the sun in retaliation for even asking, but it was taxing enough to keep an illusion going on Anna when they wouldn’t be near each other for most of the night.

“Come on,” Anna said, leading him up to the bar. “Whole family has a tab here, get whatever you want.”

“Gabe can order something for me,” he shrugged. However bad Gabriel's tastes were in most things, Castiel did prefer the fruity, sweet drinks Gabriel favored to beer or his father's scotch.

Eventually he ended up leaning against a wall in one of the darker corners of the room, sipping something strawberry-flavored and bubbly, fondly watching Anna smile and flirt with the pretty blonde she'd caught sight of ten minutes after they got drinks.

The drink was very good, at least. And the music wasn't as bad as he'd thought it was going to be, even if it was worlds away from what he normally listened to. There was really nowhere he could sit alone, but if that was going to be the worst of his complaints all night, he could be perfectly happy with that. Maybe Anna was right. Maybe he was too closed-minded about trying new things.

“Hey,” someone barked at him through the darkness. Castiel tensed, nearly spilling his drink.

He gripped the glass tighter, forcing himself to still, to not look frightened. Maybe he’d been right about not going out after all. Did someone who held a grudge against the Novaks see them coming in and follow him over here? Did someone recognize _him?_

When he looked up, a taller man in one of the club’s polo shirts was glaring down at him. “Yeah, you,” he continued in a low growl. “You've been standing over here staring at that girl for half an hour. Are we gonna have trouble?”

Castiel blinked, then relaxed. “Oh, no, that's my sister. I – wait, you don't know who we are?”

The man raised an eyebrow, unimpressed, like he’d heard that line a few thousand times before. “Should I?”

Castiel shook his head, embarrassed. “No, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just surprising. My family, we're, um...” Shit. How do you explain something like this without sounding like an asshole?

But the man's eyes had already widened. “Oh, fuck, you're one of those, um...Novas?”

“Novaks,” Castiel said, nodding in relief.

“Shit. Dammit. I'm – I'm sorry,” the man said, obviously panicking.

“No, it's okay,” Castiel said quickly. “Don't worry about it. I'm not one of the bad ones.”

“You're not – what the hell does that mean?”

“I'm guessing you're new to the city and someone told you about us,” Castiel said, relaxing back against the wall again. While this wasn’t exactly a pleasant conversation, at least this wasn’t about him specifically and he was in no apparent danger. The fact that this man had been _protecting Anna_ when he confronted him warmed Castiel to him considerably, as well.

“Uh, yeah. This is my first day on the job, actually. Figures I'd manage to find one of the most powerful people in the city and yell at him.” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

Castiel chuckled ruefully. “That's the thing. You didn't.”

The man just blinked back at him.

“If they told you about the Novaks,” Castiel continued hesitantly, “I'm sure they told you that there was one little black sheep who never presented. That's me.”

The man's jaw dropped.

Castiel looked down into his drink, glad for the darkness when he felt his cheeks heat in embarrassment. He might have been okay with being powerless, but that didn't mean he enjoyed people's reactions to it.

“Holy shit,” the man whispered.

“You don't need to be rude about it,” Castiel muttered acidly.

“No, no – you don't understand. I – uh, my name's Dean. Dean Winchester.”

“Hello, _Dean_.”

“Yeah, hi – sorry, I forgot all your names, there's too many of you.”

“Castiel.”

“Yeah, that. Hi. I'm sorry, it's just...me too.”

“You too _what_?” Castiel looked back up at him, irritated _and_ confused now.

Dean grinned. “Powerless.”

Castiel’s eyes widened. “You're kidding.”

Dean laughed and shook his head. “Right? I mean, I met one other person who was supposed to be powerless, just once, but we were just 16 and she ended up getting her powers a year later. And you – you're 21, right? You and your sister, you're the youngest.”

Castiel nodded. “She got hers at 11,” he said faintly. “And I never did.”

“Wow,” Dean breathed. “I couldn't believe it when they told me, but you're...here.”

Castiel couldn't help smiling back. Dean's excitement was infectious.

“Um, I need to go back to work but...are you gonna be here later?”

Castiel tilted his head. “Why?”

“So we can talk, man,” Dean said. “I mean...life as one of us gets pretty lonely, right? Who else is there around that really gets it?”

Castiel stared down at his drink thoughtfully. “I was planning to leave as soon as I was certain my sister had somewhere safe to go tonight,” he said hesitantly. “But...you're right. I've never had the chance to talk with someone else like me.”

Dean's grin was blinding. “Awesome. I'll find you when I get my lunch break, all right?”

Castiel smiled back and nodded.

He was going to have to thank Anna. He was very glad he’d come out tonight after all.

—————

Anna was already gone, now, slipped out with the blonde girl's arm around her waist. She'd looked worried when Castiel insisted he was staying, but let it go when he assured her he’d take a taxi home later, strategically leaving out the part where his wallet was still in their room at home. Gabriel immediately took it upon himself to babysit him once she was gone, but backed off with a lascivious grin when he told him he was already waiting for someone he’d met. Castiel didn't bother correcting his assumptions – if it got him to leave him alone, he'd happily let Gabriel think what he wanted.

The tables cleared out slowly, and he finally found a spot to sit at a nice, comfortable booth. He laid his head on the table with a yawn. His drink was long since empty. Somehow he'd not only gotten used to the music, but come to find it soothing. Maybe he was just tired enough that any music would have lulled him to sleep at this point.

When he opened his eyes again, someone was shaking his shoulder gently.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean said softly next to him. “Wake up, dude. It's closing time.”

Castiel grumbled and yawned, stretching like a cat. His neck ached from the position he'd been sitting in for – oh god, almost two hours.

“I'm sorry it took me so long to get back here, I never got to take my break. I wouldn'ta blamed you if you'd left.”

“I said I wouldn't,” Castiel murmured sleepily, reflexively leaning into Dean’s hand on his arm.

“Yeah, you did,” Dean said with a sheepish grin. “Good to know you keep your promises, huh?”

“But if it's closing time, we don't have time to talk anymore,” Castiel said, frowning up at him.

“Yeah, I'm _really_ sorry. But uh – if you want, we could go get something to eat? My treat? There's gotta be a Denny's somewhere around here. I could really use a burger after today.”

“A burger sounds great,” Castiel smiled.

“Awesome. I'm driving,” Dean said, jingling his keys.

“That's good, because my siblings left with their cars already and I don’t have any money for a taxi.”

“Shit, what were you gonna do, walk home?”

Castiel shrugged. “I suppose. I've never been out this late before. It’s only a few miles. I think.”

Dean stared at him for a minute, blinking slowly. “Well, come on,” he said finally. “You gotta meet my baby anyway if we're gonna be friends.”

_Friends_. Castiel couldn't suppress the faint, excited flutter in his stomach at the thought. He didn't have any friends of his own. His “friends” were Anna's friends, or Gabriel's friends, or the influential friends of the family he was supposed to pretend he liked and make appearances with. _Dean_ could be someone all his own.

Castiel shook himself. He must still be half asleep if he was thinking of Dean in terms of _his_ now.

Dean's _‘baby’_ turned out to be a long, glistening black car. Castiel had never felt any special way about cars before — they were more Michael's sort of thing than his own — but even he could appreciate this car, the air of royalty she seemed to exude over the dingy parking lot, the way the stars caught on her glossy surface.

“She's beautiful,” Castiel said softly.

Dean practically glowed at the praise, stroking the car's hood lovingly. “You got good taste, Cas,” he said, grinning.

_You're beautiful, too,_ Castiel thought wonderingly. He was quickly becoming addicted to Dean's smiles.

Despite what Anna and Gabriel might think, he _could_ appreciate when someone was good-looking. Just because he wasn't attracted _to_ them didn't mean he was blind. But there was something different about the way Dean struck him. Sure, his eyes were gorgeous, and his freckles set off his full lashes nicely and highlighted his long, straight nose. But it was his smile, the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed, the quiet strength behind his casual demeanor that made Castiel’s heart stumble every time they made eye contact. Even the simple brush of his arm against Castiel’s as he moved around him to hold the car door open for him sent something warm and electric zinging through his bones.

He didn't know what was happening to him, but he couldn't say he objected too strongly.

He didn't realize he'd been staring at Dean the entire ride to the restaurant until they pulled into the parking lot. He supposed it must have been awkward for Dean, but he only smiled warmly at Castiel when they got out of the car — Dean insisting on getting the door for him again. They got a booth, each ordering a burger with everything and two large shakes.

“So,” Dean said after the waitress left.

“So?”

“So what's your story?”

Castiel shrugged. “You’ve heard about most of it through rumors already, I assume.”

“Yeah, but I wanna know what _you_ have to say about it, not the gossipy crap.”

“Well...like I’m sure you've heard, my family is very powerful, both magically and financially. We've been in the city for, oh, generations now. According to my mother we practically founded the city, although I don't know about that. My father is rarely around – he's usually away on business of some sort. I've seen him maybe twice in the past year. My mother and one of my older brothers run the estate together.”

“The _estate?”_ Dean sneered. He blinked, his cheeks flushing. “Uh, sorry. That was rude.”

Castiel smiled in amusement, shaking his head. “No, by all means. Don't feel you have to censor yourself. Everyone always does.”

He sighed before continuing. “Anyway, like I told you, Anna and I are twins. She came into her powers at 11. She can manipulate emotion through skin contact. Yet I've never manifested any sort of ability. We've tried everything, but I seem to be completely mundane. I only went out tonight to get out of the house because my mother invited someone from the Institute to dinner to come... _recruit_ me.”

Dean scowled. “I've heard a lot of nasty shit about that place. Who'd send their own kids there?”

Castiel shrugged. “It's not the worst they could do. I’ve overheard my mother and brother discussing...less legal methods.”

Dean's eyes widened. “You mean, like...”

Castiel jumped when the waitress set their plates in front of them with a tired smile. He'd almost forgotten how _publicly_ they were talking – the diner was fairly empty at this time of day, but that only made their conversation easier to listen in on if anyone was so inclined.

He cleared his throat. “Anyway. I don't care, personally. I don't mind not having magic. I'm good at other things. I only wish people wouldn't treat me differently because of it.”

Dean's face darkened. “Fuck people,” he growled. “Make out like magic is all that matters. Kid I went to school with, didn’t present until he was 15, he got the power to bend spoons. That's _it_. Just spoons, too. Can't do shit with forks or knives or anything. But that asshole's somehow _better_ than me, no matter how hard I work, because he has fucking _magic.”_

Castiel nodded sympathetically. “It's stupid.”

“And they act like any magic is good magic,” Dean continued, picking angrily at the bun of his burger. “Sometimes, it's...sometimes people'd be better off without it.”

Castiel raised his eyebrows questioningly. Dean’s eyes widened, as though just realizing what he’d said, and he cleared his throat.

“Uh, but my story's not that interesting. Got picked on a lot. Started getting beat up for it when I started high school and nothing was happening. So I learned a lot about protecting myself. S'why I can usually get a job bouncing pretty easily, even if I don't look too intimidating at first.”

“Usually? Do you move often?”

Dean's face closed off again. “Yeah. Me and my brother. We're...we have to move a lot.”

Castiel was burning with curiosity, but decided not to press. He wanted so badly to be friends, after all. It wouldn't do him any good to put Dean on the defensive by prying into subjects he obviously wasn't ready to discuss.

“Well,” he said instead. “I wasn't exactly bullied, since we all had tutors come to the house rather than going to school. But our house is vandalized now and then because of me. There are those who would like to run me out of town. I'm apparently bad luck for the whole city.” He smiled weakly.

“Shit,” Dean said, the anger in his face melting into concern as he stared at Castiel.

“Yes,” Castiel said faintly. He looked around the nearly empty room, watching the few other customers quietly eating their food, taking no notice of the semi-celebrity in their midst.

“In fact,” he said quietly, staring down at his plate. “You may...not want to be seen around me. I don't say this because I don't want to be your friend, but because...I don't know if it would endanger you to be associated with me.”

Dean just laughed. Castiel's eyes snapped up in time to see Dean shaking his head with a wide smile. “I told you, Cas, I'm good at protecting myself. And if things are so bad you feel like you gotta warn me away, then you _really_ need a friend.”

Castiel smiled weakly. “I suppose so. But, Dean, I would never forgive myself if anything happened to you because of me.”

“It won't,” Dean said simply, shrugging and shoving his burger in his mouth.

Castiel was quickly coming to realize that when Dean said a thing was so, it was impossible not to believe him. So for once in his life he let himself relax and accept that maybe something good was happening to him.

—————

When they pulled up to the curb outside Castiel's house, there were no lights on inside. Apparently nobody was waiting up for him to return. Castiel quietly thanked Dean for the ride and crept up the driveway. He was amused to notice that Dean wasn't leaving immediately, making sure Castiel got in his house safely before he drove away.

When he reached into his pocket for his keys and came up with nothing, he decided maybe he should be very thankful for Dean’s old-fashioned manners. Pointlessly, he tried the doorknob. Oh, of course, _now_ he remembered — his keys were, as always, safely tucked away in the inner pocket of his trenchcoat next to his wallet.

Which was currently hanging neatly on the back of the chair in his room, as Anna absolutely refused to let him wear it to the club.

Did he dare knock? Of course he didn't. The chances that Anna or Gabriel would be home, much less that either would be the one to hear the door and let him in, were minuscule. And the trouble he’d already invited by staying out in the first place was nothing compared to what he’d have to deal with if he woke the whole house up at three in the morning.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and found a text from Anna that had apparently come in while he was asleep — _“staying w/jo (girl from club), wont be back tonight. she has a waterbed!! ps love you, hope you had fun after i left.”_ So there went one possibility. He sighed and dialed Gabriel's number.

After two tries with no answer, he gave up. He took a few steps back away from the house, peering up at his own window. Had he left it unlocked? Would he be able to get in if he climbed up there?

_Could_ he climb up there? The thought was intriguing, but it seemed unlikely. He'd never even had occasion to climb a tree.

“Couldn't help but notice you seem to be having some issues,” Dean's voice rumbled behind him, amused. Castiel tensed briefly in surprise, then sighed again and nodded.

“So, I’m assuming you don’t want to wake anyone up, or you’d just ring the doorbell. That means we got two options here,” Dean said, laying a warm hand on Castiel's shoulder. “One, I pick the lock for you. Or two,” he shrugged, smiling almost shyly. “Could just come back to my place. Couch folds out.”

“We have a very expensive security system even if you managed to pick the lock,” Castiel said. “We’d wake everybody up anyway. And...I've never...”

“Never what, Cas?”

Castiel looked down at his feet. “I've never gotten to sleep at someone else's house before.”

Dean's eyes widened. “Never? No sleepovers?”

Castiel shook his head. “I've never had any friends. It hasn’t come up.”

“Well, shit. I guess it's about time you got one.”

Castiel's breath caught when he looked back up at Dean. Dean's eyes were lit up with excitement, a wide grin on his face. Castiel felt like he could stand here and bask in Dean's happiness for a lifetime. The fact that the cause of it was _him_ , just the fact that they were going to spend more time together putting that look on Dean’s face, left Castiel with a dizzy rush of feelings he had no idea what to do with.

“I guess it is,” Castiel said finally.

—————

They stopped at a gas station for overpriced popcorn and candy, because Dean insisted it wouldn't be a proper sleepover if they didn't watch at least one movie before they passed out, and Castiel had to defer to his obvious authority on the matter. The cashier stared openly at Castiel from the moment they walked in. Castiel felt naked, vulnerable – until Dean came up behind him again and wrapped an arm around his shoulder.

How could this sense of _belonging_ be so strong after only knowing Dean for a few hours? How could he make him feel so safe? He should be wary. He shouldn't trust him. His mother would be appalled.

But one glance back at Dean's soft smile as he watched Castiel pick out candy and he felt like he was exactly where he was supposed to be.

The cashier's hostility seemed to ease some when Castiel gave him a shaky smile as they were checking out. He even wished them a bored _have a great night_ as they left.

“It's 'cause you're too cute to hate,” Dean said as they drove away.

“Oh, many people manage it easily,” Castiel responded evenly.

“Then they haven't actually _met_ you,” Dean said. “You're like...a bunny. Nobody can hate bunnies.”

“A _bunny_?”

“No? Okay, fine, not a bunny. A kitten, maybe.”

“I...suppose I can live with that.”

Dean grinned. “Good, 'cause you gotta. Sam, he's a big puppy.”

“And what are you?”

“Me? Hmm. Never thought about it. Maybe a tiger.”

Castiel shook his head silently, smiling, but said nothing.

—————

“Gotta be quiet, in case Sammy's asleep,” Dean said when they got to his apartment. “Sorry the place is a shithole. Know you're used to...well, a lot better than this.”

Castiel shook his head. “I don't care, Dean. I really don't.”

Dean's eyes softened. “Yeah. Yeah, I know.”

When they entered, though, someone was already sitting up on the couch. An infomercial — for what appeared to be yet another amazing, revolutionary new blender — played quietly on the TV.

“Hey, Dean,” the boy on the couch said in a tired voice.

“Sammy,” Dean said, frowning. “You're up late.”

“Couldn't sleep. Starting to get the bad dreams again. You think you could — oh, Dean, really? We haven’t been here a week, and you’re already —”

“This is Cas,” Dean said firmly. “And he’s locked out of his house right now and I figured we could watch some movies and he could crash on the couch.”

“Oh,” Sam said, eyes widening. “Uh, sorry. Nice to meet you, Cas.”

“It’s…nice to meet you too,” Castiel said, shifting his weight awkwardly. “I’m sorry if I’m imposing.”

“No, no,” Sam said. “It’s fine, I swear. I’m just used to Dean bringing people home for…other reasons. And you _really_ look like his type, so I —”

“ _Okay_ then,” Dean said, clapping his hands loudly as Castiel bit his lip to hold back a smile. “That’s enough of that. Sammy, you get to make the popcorn. I’ll set up the sofa bed. Cas, movies are in that box — pick somethin’ good out.”

Sam rolled his eyes but took the bag from Dean and went to the kitchen with one last apologetic smile back at Castiel.

The box was full of movies Castiel had never heard of. He picked through it helplessly, eventually just looking for something with a nice picture on the cover.

“Find anything you like?” Dean called back to him as he dumped an armful of blankets and pillows on the sofa mattress.

“I’ve never seen any of these,” Castiel admitted.

“Oh no,” Sam said, walking back into the living room while he shook up the popcorn. “You shouldn’tve told him that. Now he’s going to make you watch all of them.”

Castiel furrowed his brow, staring down at the box. “There are far too many movies in here to watch all of them in one night.”

Dean nudged at his shoulder. Castiel turned to look at him.

“Well, that just means I’ll have to drag you over here to watch the rest of them later, huh?” Dean said with a grin. “After all, that’s what friends are for.”

“Oh,” Castiel said, smiling softly. “Okay. That sounds…nice.”

“So didja at least see anything interesting?”

“This one looked nice,” Castiel said, holding out the case.

“ _The Aristocats?_ You’re serious?”

Castiel looked down at his feet. He could feel his face heating up. He _knew_ he was going to manage to pick wrong.

“I like cats,” he mumbled.

“Then that’s what we’ll watch,” Sam said, plucking the movie out of Cas’ hands with a glare back at Dean.

“Well, I guess if you’ve never seen it,” Dean said, rubbing the back of his neck. “It is kind of a classic. Even if it is for kids.”

The three of them settled in on the couch in the nest of pillows Dean had made, pulling blankets up around them. Cas sat in the middle, popcorn on his lap.

They sipped their beers, ate their snacks, and eventually even Dean relaxed enough to let himself openly enjoy the movie. Castiel couldn’t help loving it. He’d never seen anything so simple and sweet.

“Why, your eyes are like sapphires, sparkling so bright,” the alley cat said on the television, and Castiel could feel Dean’s eyes suddenly on him.

When he turned to look, Dean flushed at being caught staring, but didn’t look away. Dean grinned shyly and nudged his shoulder.

“Watch the movie,” he murmured.

“You’re the one getting distracted by my eyes,” Castiel whispered, feeling strangely bold.

Dean choked on his beer. Sam chuckled on the other side of Castiel.

By the time the movie ended Castiel could barely keep his eyes open, entranced by the straightforward, happy ending. He was sleepy from the beer and surrounded by warmth, both from the blankets wrapped around him and the two boys relaxing next to him. He didn’t think he’d ever felt so completely comfortable.

A gentle hand took the empty bottle from him, and another stroked through his hair. “Go t’sleep,” Dean said softly.

Castiel hummed contentedly in response, leaning into the touch. The last thing he was aware of was a fond chuckle and the blanket being tucked in around him more snugly.

—————

An insistent buzzing in his pocket woke Castiel up only a few hours later.

He blinked sleepily, trying to figure out where he was before addressing the problem of his pocket.

His arms were full of a soft, warm body, and another was rolled up against him back-to-back. He was at Dean and Sam’s apartment, he remembered. This was Dean curled up in his arms — spooning, that’s what this was called — and Sam snoring behind him.

The buzzing came again.

“Shut y’r phone up,” Dean grumbled. When Castiel pulled his arm away from Dean’s waist, Dean growled and pulled it back.

“Dean,” Castiel said softly next to his ear, smiling when Dean shivered and pressed back closer against him. “You have to let my arm go if you want me to turn off my phone.”

“Warm,” Dean complained.

“Fuck’s sake,” Sam groaned, reaching back into Castiel’s pocket himself. “Jesus, Cas, you got like, fifteen messages.”

Castiel blinked in confusion. “What day is it?”

“Uh, Sunday,” Sam said, yawning.

“ _Shit,_ ” Castiel said, jolting upright and taking the phone from Sam just in time for it to ring again.

“Mother,” he answered, swallowing hard.

“ _Castiel! Where in the_ world _are you?”_

“I’m…at a friend’s,” Castiel said, glancing down at Dean, who was finally blinking reluctantly into consciousness.

“ _But you don’t have any friends_ ,” she spat. She was obviously somewhere she could be sure nobody else would hear her.

Dean sat up and turned to stare at Castiel. His phone was probably loud enough for Dean to hear the whole conversation. Castiel tried not to blush. Sam, thankfully, was carefully looking away, politely pretending he couldn’t hear anything.

“I do now,” Castiel mumbled.

“ _We’ll…have a talk about this_ friend _of yours later. Now, why are you not at church?”_

“I was asleep. I was...up late.”

“ _I knew I shouldn’t have let you leave with Anna. She’s corrupting you like Gabriel corrupted her. You’re_ better _than this, Castiel!”_

“You didn’t _let_ me leave, I _left_ ,” Castiel said, suddenly angry. “I am not a child.”

“ _You sound just like her. I’m very disappointed in you, Castiel. You’re coming to church now, and you’re going to apologize to Pastor Jim for being late, and then we are going home to have a talk about this. Then we’re going to discuss enrollment at the Institute like we were going to last night before you_ ran away.”

Dean’s face was twisted in anger at this point. He yanked the phone out of Castiel’s hands.

“No, that’s actually not what’s going to happen,” he growled. “What’s gonna happen is I’m gonna hang up on you now, and Cas is gonna spend the day having fun with people who _don’t_ treat him like shit. Have a nice day, Mrs. Novak.”

And he hung up.

“Novak?” Sam said slowly, sitting up. “You’re _Castiel Novak?”_

“So you’ve heard of us too,” Castiel sighed.

“Yeah, I...wow.”

“Jesus, Sam, don’t,” Dean snapped. “He’s _Cas,_ and he’s our friend, and I’m gonna make him some fucking pancakes now if that’s okay with you.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Sam said gently. “I just...it’s nice you found someone else you can...relate to, right?” Dean stared at Sam for another second before nodding and shoving the blankets off of himself. He stomped off to the kitchen, muttering. Sam turned to Castiel. “Sorry, is that a sensitive subject for you, Cas?”

“My lack of powers? Oh, no. For my family, maybe, but I’m perfectly happy the way I am.”

Sam grinned in relief. “Well, good. That’s a great attitude to have. Maybe it’ll rub off on Dean.”

“What do you mean? He seems perfectly confident.”

“Yeah, _seems,_ ” Sam said with a sigh. “He’s good at acting. It bugs the hell out of him, especially because of our dad.”

“Your father? He didn’t mention anything about him.”

“Yeah, he wouldn’t have. No, uh...Dad kind of treated Dean like he was letting him down because he didn’t have powers. Like he was a disappointment. And he was supposed to take care of me, and Dad kept telling him he wouldn’t be able to protect me. As if just any power at all would work, as long as he had one.”

“Like spoon-bending,” Castiel grumbled. “But why did he have to protect you in the first place? You’re his _brother_ , not his child. And you can’t be that much younger than him,” he frowned.

“Don’t tell _him_ that. It’s...well, it’s complicated. And I mean, it’s my story too, I guess, but I don’t feel like I should be the one to tell it to you. He’ll tell you sooner or later, I’m sure. But basically, Dean feels like he’s failed Dad and me both by not having any powers. So to meet someone who doesn’t have them either and does just fine without them, especially someone he likes and respects...”

“I see,” Castiel said, nodding solemnly. “In that case, I hope I can help in some way. Dean has been extremely kind to me already, and I don’t feel I have much to offer in return.”

Sam shrugged. “Just be his friend. I think that’s what both of you really need.”

“If you two are done talkin’ about me behind my back, Sam, you could come set the table,” Dean called out.

“No way,” Sam yelled back. “I haven’t even gotten to telling him about Rhonda Hurley yet.”

“ _Sam,”_ Dean growled.

Laughing, Sam stood and went to the kitchen, cocking his head for Castiel to follow.

“Who’s Rhonda Hurley?” Castiel asked, trailing behind Sam.

“Nobody,” Dean said, glaring at Sam.

“Oh, she was somebody, all right,” Sam snickered.

“Don’t worry about it,” Dean mumbled. “Not interesting.”

“I’m sure any story about you would be interesting,” Castiel said as Sam guided him into a chair. If anything, Dean blushed even brighter. Sam looked delighted.

“Uh, anyway,” Dean said, clearing his throat. “Pancakes. You like pancakes, right?”

Castiel smiled softly. “Yes, I like pancakes.”

As it turned out, cooking was one of Dean’s favorite activities. Castiel couldn’t help wondering if some of that stemmed from what Sam had mentioned — having to _take care_ of his little brother, whether he’d been responsible for feeding him when they were younger — but once he took his first bite of his breakfast he found himself unable to think of much else.

“ _Dean_ ,” he said after swallowing. “These are delicious.”

Dean shrugged, face flushing again. “They’re just pancakes.”

“They’re better than any pancakes I’ve ever had before, Dean.”

“I just add a little vanilla and some cinnamon and nutmeg,” Dean said, shrugging.

“You should try his burgers,” Sam said with a grin.

“I shouldn’t,” Castiel said. “If they’re as good as these pancakes, I might never leave.”

“In that case, maybe I’ll make some for lunch after we watch another movie,” Dean said with a wink.

Castiel found himself blushing this time, and instead of responding he shoveled another large forkful of pancake in his mouth. Dean chuckled and began to eat his own food.

The silence at the table as they ate was so comfortable and warm, unlike any meal Castiel had ever had at home with his family. If this was what having friends was like, he had wasted so much time without letting anyone into his life until now.

But maybe this wasn’t just what having friends was like. Maybe this was what being friends with _Sam and Dean_ was like.

Maybe he’d just been waiting for them all this time.

—————

Dean didn’t bother to pretend, this time, that he objected to watching a _‘kid’s movie’_ when Castiel picked out the Lion King.

“Oh, hell yes, this is one of my favorites,” he said excitedly as he put it in.

“Dean,” Castiel said thoughtfully. “Why would you not want me to know you liked children’s films?”

Dean shrugged. “I dunno. It’s the kind of thing people make fun of you for. Kind of thing my dad would’ve gotten on my case about.”

“But if they make you happy, what’s wrong with them?”

Dean stared at him for a moment, eyes soft and considering. “Nothing, I guess,” he said.

The serious mood lifted as soon as Sam came in and flopped down to his space on the couch again, passing out sodas instead of beer this time.

“What’s this?” Castiel asked, sniffing it skeptically.

“Uh, it’s Dr. Pepper, dude,” Dean said. “Were you not allowed soda as a kid or something?”

“Well, no,” Castiel said. “It’s not supposed to be…healthy for me. I’m really only supposed to have water, though I let Gabriel convince me to try alcoholic drinks a few months ago, and I like them now and then.”

“Have you ever even had caffeine before?” Sam asked with wide eyes.

“No,” Castiel said, shrugging. “Anna is quite fond of coffee and tea, but I’m not supposed to have it because caffeine…may impair the natural development of magical talent, or something. To that end I shouldn’t have alcohol either, though, so I’m not sure how much more harm it could do.”

Dean grinned. “Well, hell. I’m gonna enjoy this.”

Castiel enjoyed the Lion King very much, though he began to grow fidgety and restless after Dean brought him a second soda.

In his distracted state, he almost didn’t notice how Sam and Dean’s faces grew serious and dark when the lion cub’s father died.

He resolved to ask Dean about it later and let it go for the time being.

“Jeez, Cas, you’re fuckin’ vibrating,” Dean mumbled a while later.

Castiel _giggled_. He actually, truly _giggled._

“Holy shit,” Dean said with a laugh, pausing the movie. “It’s hitting you pretty hard, huh?”

“This is confusing,” Castiel said, furrowing his brow. “I had a very high tolerance for alcohol from the first time I tried it, but I can’t seem to…control my reaction to this as easily. I can’t stop _moving_. I’m sorry if I’m being irritating.”

“No, this is great,” Dean said. “When the movie’s over we’re going to the store for stuff for burgers. Unleash you on the unsuspecting public.”

“I’m not sure that’s a great idea,” Sam mumbled.

“No, no, that sounds wonderful,” Castiel said, bouncing lightly where he sat. “I want to. I want to move. Go see things. See _people_. I never get to go places. And I let Anna talk me into going to the club and now I have _friends_ , and I’ve never had friends before. Mother says people will hate me, want to hurt me because of who I am, so I shouldn’t go out in public. But I _want_ to. I want to do things. I wanted to take an art class, you know. Anna brought me the pamphlets. I was so excited. She really believed I could do it, and she made me believe her. I wanted to go so badly, but I was only sixteen, and Mother said no, and Michael ripped the pamphlets up, and I…I cried so much, Sam.”

Sam blinked at him, mouth hanging open. “Uh,” he said. “Okay. Well. I…guess we can go to the grocery store then. If it’ll…make you happy.”

Castiel responded by hugging him tightly.

“Awesome,” Dean said, grinning widely.


	2. Chapter 2

This was the best idea Dean had ever had.

Cas couldn't stand still, flitting around from aisle to aisle, asking Sam a constant stream of questions about things he found. Dean grinned to himself as he picked through the tomatoes, carefully testing for ripeness, keeping an ear out for Sam and Cas.

“Dean,” Cas said suddenly from behind him.

“ _Jesus,_ Cas,” Dean gasped, almost dropping the bag of tomatoes he’d been filling. “Make some noise, would ya?”

Cas tilted his head in confusion.

“Nevermind,” Dean said, shaking his head. “What d’you need?”

“I wanted to see what you were doing. Why are you squeezing those?”

“It tells me if they’re good,” Dean said, taking Cas’ hand without really thinking about it and wrapping it gently around the tomato. “First you wanna make sure it’s a good color. You want a nice, bright red with no green left. Make sure there’s no spots or holes on it or anything. Then you squeeze it — no, gently, like this — make sure it’s nice and firm, but not too hard, and there’s no really soft spots.”

When Dean looked up Cas was staring at him, not the tomato.

“You love this, don’t you?” Cas said softly.

“What, tomatoes?”

“Cooking.”

“Oh, uh. Yeah, I guess. It’s useful.”

Cas shook his head, opening his mouth to say something else.

“Cas!” Sam yelled, coming around the corner. “Oh God, there you are.”

Dean frowned. “Wait, you _lost_ him?”

“He — I thought he was looking at the Jell-o! I just walked off for one second, and —”

“I’m not a child,” Cas muttered, frowning.

“I can’t believe you _lost_ him,” Dean said.

“I am _not_ a child,” Cas said, louder.

“Well _you_ watch him, then,” Sam snapped.

“Fine,” Dean said. “C'mon, Cas, let’s go pick out...some...Cas?”

Cas was gone. Dean hadn't even noticed him leaving — and after the way they were talking about him, he was probably pissed. Well, after everything Cas had told Dean about how people felt about him, of _course_ he was gonna be a little overprotective of him.

But, okay, maybe they could have handled that better.

“Shit,” Dean sighed. He shoved the basket into Sam’s hands. “Go get me some onions and lettuce. I’ll find Cas.”

Sam rolled his eyes as Dean jogged away.

Dean peered into every aisle he passed, calling out Cas’ name, until —

“It’s okay,” he heard Cas saying in a low, soothing voice. “Don’t worry, we’ll find your mother. We can go up front and one of the cashiers will call for her to come find you, all right?”

When Dean peered around the corner of the next aisle, he found Cas down on one knee, talking to a little girl — probably no more than five or six years old.

“My name is Castiel. What’s yours?”

“Emma,” the little girl said quietly.

“That’s a lovely name, Emma.”

Cas stood and held a hand out for Emma to take and turned around.

“Oh, hello, Dean,” he said with a small smile.

“And here I thought I was comin' to rescue _you_ ,” Dean grinned.

Cas shook his head, but he was still smiling.

Dean trailed a few steps behind them as Cas led Emma to the checkout area. Cas listened patiently as the girl rambled, telling him what they’d come to the store for and how she’d gotten lost, telling him what they were going to have for dinner, swinging their arms together as they walked and she began to relax.

Cas just somehow managed to make people comfortable, Dean decided. Maybe he was dorky and kind of awkward, but it was pretty much impossible not to feel good around him. And maybe that was partly _because_ he was such a dork — you didn't have to be afraid of Cas judging you, didn't have to worry whether you were saying the right things with him. And he was so genuinely interested in anything you had to say. Being the center of Cas’ attention was...well. Intense, but nice. Cas made you feel like anything you had to say was important.

How could anybody not like him? Dean was having serious doubts about those rumors.

Cas sat on the bench behind the checkout with the little girl while they waited for her mother. Dean stood a little ways off, just watching — completely forgetting Sam was somewhere in the produce section waiting for him. It was hard to think of much beyond watching Cas as he smiled warmly and chatted with Emma.

 _He’s a natural with kids,_ Dean thought. _Good to know._

Wait, good to know?

Dean didn't have time to examine that train of thought any further. A tall, blonde woman raced past the conveyor belts and over to the bench, and the little girl jumped up to meet her, beaming.

“Oh, Emma,” the woman sighed in relief. “Thank God.”

She turned to smile at Castiel, and Dean grinned, hanging back and watching.

So he saw the exact moment when her smile faltered, and she took a step back.

“You — you’re Castiel Novak. _”_

Dean tensed. The woman pulled Emma by the arm, tugging her behind herself as if to shield her.

“You’re that powerless freak,” the woman said loudly. “And you touched my _daughter_? If she ends up powerless now, I’ll — I’ll sue! I’ll sue your whole family!”

“It’s not contagious,” Castiel mumbled. “I was just…trying to help.”

“No,” the woman shook her head. “No, just…get _away_ from us. You stay away from her!”

Dean stormed over, stepping in front of Cas and snarling, opening his mouth to fight back. A gentle hand on his elbow stopped him. He looked back over his shoulder.

There were obvious tears in Cas’ eyes, but he shook his head.

“Please, don’t,” he whispered. “Don’t make it worse. She’s already so scared.”

Dean blinked in confusion, looking back at the woman, who only looked angrier with Dean in front of her, blocking Cas off.

 _Oh_. The little girl.

She peeked out from behind her mother’s legs at Dean, looking frightened and miserable. Cas was right. All he was going to do was make it worse for her.

Dean took a deep, shaking breath and forced a smile for Emma before turning and taking Cas’ arm to walk away as Emma’s mother took her in the opposite direction.

“Bye, Castiel,” the little girl called out suddenly.

Cas smiled at that, but then something seemed to snap in him. He broke down sobbing.

“Shit,” Dean said, wrapping his arms around him and tucking Cas’ head to his chest.

“Dean, what the hell? I got your damn onions, now — hey, what happened?” Sam said, coming up beside them with the basket.

“Uh, we’re gonna go wait in the car,” Dean said, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket and shoving it out at Sam. “We just need some ground beef now. Maybe some more beer.” He looked down at Cas, still trembling in his arms. “Yeah, we need some more beer.”

“Okay,” Sam said softly. “I’ll be quick.”

Dean nodded his thanks and guided Cas carefully out of the store, ignoring the stares of the customers around them that had stopped to gawk.

Fuck this city.

—————

Cas was silent in the back seat the whole ride back to the apartment. Sam had offered him the front seat, but he’d only quietly shaken his head, staring blankly out the window.

Dean couldn't escape the feeling that he’d massively fucked up. It was his idea to bring Cas out — his fault Cas had been where he was.

His fault Cas was crumpled up in the back seat with tear stains on his cheeks.

Dean wanted to scream, wanted to hit something, but the only person he’d be helping would be himself. He kept thinking of that little girl’s face, how Cas had pleaded with Dean not to scare her. Didn't want to see what Cas’ face would look like if he saw Dean like that.

So he wouldn't scare Cas. He wouldn't make this about him and his anger. He couldn't do that to him. He’s the one that fucked everything up in the first place anyway. He’d just wanted to give Cas a good day, some time away from his family having fun, and now?

All he could do now was take care of him the only way he knew how.

So when they got back to the apartment he led Cas to the couch and tucked him into the blankets, silently cocking his head to Sammy to ask him to sit with Cas. Once Cas was safe and comfortable, Dean went into the kitchen to cook.

And he was gonna make the best fucking burgers he’d ever made if it killed him.

He let himself take out some of his frustration in pounding out the meat, chopping up the lettuce — for what little good it did.

He could hear Sam and Cas talking quietly in the living room. If anyone would know the right things to say right now, at least, it’d be Sammy. Sam always had all the words.

He finished the burgers, put them together on the plates and added some chips to each. He ducked into the living room with two of them in time to hear the tail end of a weak laugh from Cas, and even that made his heart flutter.

“Food’s done,” he said with an only slightly forced smile, carefully handing the plates down to Sam and Cas. He came back a minute later with his own plate and three beers, passing them out.

Cas looked calmer than he had, but still distinctly uncomfortable. Sam had that concerned, patient look on his face that he got when he’d decided that Dean _really_ needed to talk his feelings out _right now_ and he wasn't gonna take no for an answer, completely oblivious to when Dean needed time to himself before he’d be ready to talk. Sam meant well, but he didn't know when to back down and let someone just _be_ for a while.

And with one look at Cas’ face, Dean knew he didn't need this right now. Maybe he’d need to talk later, and Sam could play therapist all he wanted — or Dean would listen as long as he needed — but right now, he was pretty sure Cas needed to be distracted.

“So,” Dean said. “How about 101 Dalmatians?”

When Cas smiled at him warmly, he knew he’d guessed right.

“This was always Sammy’s favorite,” Dean whispered as he climbed in next to Cas. “He always wanted a dog.”

“I always wanted a cat,” Cas said faintly. “A dog might have been nice too. Something to take care of.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Dean said. He scooted carefully over until his shoulder was just barely nudging against Cas’, leaving him room to lean away if he wasn't comfortable.

Instead, Cas pressed back into him almost immediately. They ended up leaning against each other, Cas a solid line of warmth against Dean’s side.

He was close enough to hear all the little sighs of pleasure Cas made as he savored his food. The tension began to bleed out of Dean’s shoulders slowly as he felt Cas relax next to him. At least Dean could make food that made people happy, even if he couldn't do it right himself.

When they were finished he took their plates and set them on the floor next to the couch. When Cas turned over, Dean didn't even question it and tucked Cas under his arm.

“Thank you,” Cas mumbled into his chest.

Dean scoffed. “My fault it happened in the first place.”

“No,” Cas sighed. “It wasn't. And anyway,” he yawned. “Now I know how to pick tomatoes.”

Dean smiled, burying his face in Cas’ hair and resisting the urge to kiss him on the top of his head.

“Next time I’ll teach you how to pick out good onions,” he whispered.

Cas’ only response was a soft snore.

Sam chuckled, looking over at them. “Guess all that caffeine wore off.”

Dean felt his own eyes drooping as the movie played on, lulled by Cas’ warmth and the quiet rhythm of his breath. And hell, they’d only gotten a few hours of sleep before Cas’ mom woke them up this morning. They all deserved a nap.

When the movie was over Sam quietly picked up the dishes and beer bottles and went to clean up. Dean tugged Cas a little closer and finally let himself sink back into sleep.

—————

Something was tickling Dean’s nose. There was a warm, solid weight across his chest, and a strong, muscled leg tangled with his own.

He didn’t want to open his eyes yet. He knew how this went. He’d wake up with a soft, warm body pressed against his, and it was heaven for a few minutes, but then the other person would wake up too and the awkwardness would kick in. If he was lucky, they’d hang around while he made breakfast and they’d part amicably — sometimes slip back into the bedroom for one last round before they went on their way.

But if he opened his eyes, it was another step closer to being over.

Except, now that he was really waking up, he discovered that the most likely reason he woke up in the first place was that he _really_ had to pee — and one of those firm thighs was pressing directly into his bladder.

He sighed and opened his eyes. By the light through the living room window, it was still early — maybe one or two in the afternoon.

Wait, living room window? He blinked away the blurriness in his eyes until he remembered why he was where he was, and how he ended up there.

He looked down again into a mess of fluffy, dark hair and smiled. Cas was apparently an aggressive sleep-cuddler, and Dean was certainly not complaining.

But Cas would probably also be uncomfortable with this when he woke up, and Dean’s bladder situation was really not improving with time here.

He also couldn't let himself think the things he was starting to think the longer he laid here, all of Cas’ weight pressed snugly up against him, arms clinging to him so possessively. So he carefully began to pry Cas off of him, holding his breath every time Cas grumbled in his sleep, until he was free.

 _Where the fuck is Sam, anyway_? He thought.

A glance into Sam’s room answered that as he walked down the hall to the bathroom — though why Sam decided he needed to sleep in here after the three of them had already passed out together the night before he had no idea.

When he came back out into the living room Cas was already sitting up, talking quietly on the phone.

“I’m sorry,” he was saying. “I didn't mean to worry you. I’m fine, I promise. Yes, I should have texted, I know. I made a friend — well, two, really. Yes, they’re good people — no, you don’t need to worry about me. Why does everyone think I’m incapable of caring for myself?”

Dean tried to turn around quietly before Cas noticed he was there, feeling a little guilty for eavesdropping even unintentionally, but Cas glanced back and saw him. He gave Dean a small smile and nodded to the couch beside him before returning to his call. Dean took the invitation and sat down next to him.

“I’m at their house. They — yes, _they_ , both of them. They live together. Why? Oh! Oh, no, they’re brothers.”

Dean flushed, glad he couldn’t really hear the other side of the conversation this time, though he could still hear faint laughter on the other end.

“I suppose. Dean, is it all right if I give my sister your address so she can come get me?”

“Well, sure,” Dean said, rubbing the back of his neck. “But you know I’d be happy to take you home, right?”

Cas smiled softly. “Yes, I know. But she wants to meet you.”

“I get to meet the family already, huh?” Dean said with a grin.

Cas tilted his head questioningly. “Well, yes,” he said. “Is that unusual? I’ve met Sam, after all…”

Dean coughed. “No, it’s…nevermind. Go ahead.”

Cas relayed the address to Anna as Dean gave it to him.

“She’s pretty protective of you, huh?” Dean said as Cas hung up.

“Yes,” Cas sighed. “Even though we’re twins, she’s acted like the older one since we were 11. She feels I’m her responsibility.”

Dean nudged Cas gently with his shoulder. “Well, just shows how much she loves you.”

“I understand that. But I do get very tired of being treated like a child by everyone in my life.”

Dean looked guiltily down at his hands. “Yeah, I’m sorry for bein’ like that earlier. After everything you told me, I just got kinda scared. Didn’t want anything to happen to you.”

“I know,” Cas said softly.

They watched each other thoughtfully for a while, content to sit together in silence. It was amazing how comfortable being around Cas was already. He’d only known him — shit, not even a full day yet.

“You know, uh,” Dean said and cleared his throat. “You’re welcome here, like…whenever you want, okay? If you ever need to get away…you’ve got a place here.”

Cas’ face brightened again. “That’s very kind of you, Dean,” he said sincerely. “I appreciate that very much.”

Dean grinned back at him. “Anyway, you wanna watch anything before your sister comes to get you?”

“She said she should be here in about 15 minutes,” Cas said. He sounded genuinely regretful. “Otherwise, I’d love to.”

“Damn. Oh well, plenty we can do in 15 minutes.”

Cas looked up at him and narrowed his eyes. “Like what?”

Dean’s breath caught in his throat. No, he wasn’t even going to let himself _think_ in that direction.

“Like, uh, I meant…there’s still stuff I don’t know about you. Stuff you don’t know about me. Might as well find out. Like, what’s your favorite color?”

Cas frowned thoughtfully. “I’m not sure I have a favorite. Green, maybe.”

“Ahh, you’re just sayin’ that because you’re looking at my pretty green eyes,” Dean said with a wink. Cas flushed bright red. Dammit, Dean couldn’t seem to help flirting with the poor guy. And he’d really _meant_ it when he’d said he wanted to be Cas’ friend — he didn’t want to take advantage of Cas, ruin the first real friendship he’d ever had. Cas deserved someone who’d be a _friend_ to him, with no ulterior motives.

 _Well, he’s got Sam for that now, too,_ Dean’s brain suggested unhelpfully.

“What about you?” Cas was saying. “What’s yours?”

“Blue,” Dean answered distractedly. Cas grinned almost wickedly.

“What was that about pretty eyes?” He said.

Dean threw his head back in laughter, disguising his own blush.

“Fine, fine. Now, I’m already pretty sure burgers are your favorite food.”

“Mm, yes. Are they yours as well?”

“Not quite. Close. My _favorite_ food is pie.”

“I’ll have to remember that,” Cas said with a soft smile.

They went on, back and forth, trading little bits of information about themselves. It felt a little middle school, maybe, but Dean loved it. He felt like he was peeling away the layers that made Cas _Cas,_ more than just Castiel Novak, and he found nothing he didn’t like.

Eventually they hit a lull, and things got quiet. “You don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to,” Cas said slowly. “I’ll understand if you don’t. But…what happened to your father? Why did you have to be Sam’s caretaker?”

Dean tensed. That’s not something he _ever_ talked about with people.

But this wasn’t just _people_. This was Cas. And if he wanted to know everything about Cas, it was only fair, right? And whatever that special _something_ was about Cas, it made Dean almost _want_ to tell him, to confide in him like he’d never been able to with anyone before. That should terrify him, shouldn’t it?

He’d been hesitating for a long time when Cas spoke again.

“I already told you my father is usually away,” he said thoughtfully. “I see him usually once on my mother’s birthday and once on Christmas. He wasn’t present for our birth, I’m told. I’ve heard people say he was more interested in building a following than a family. He keeps in contact with Michael, I believe, and he brings home presents for the others, but…he seems to prefer to pretend Anna and I don’t exist. Sometimes, I wonder…” Cas looked down at his hands, picking nervously at his own fingers.

“What, Cas?” Dean said, leaning in to look at his face.

“I wonder if we’re maybe not his,” Cas said. “No one else in the family has red hair. No one else in the family has blue eyes. No one else looks anything like we do.” He swallowed hard. “I don’t know who I could possibly even ask about it, and it wouldn’t make a difference, I suppose. But I think about it often. And I wonder, if it’s true, what my real father would have been like.”

He forced a smile and looked up at Dean. “I’ve never said that out loud before. I just felt it wouldn’t be fair to ask you about your father if I didn’t tell you about mine.”

Dean nodded. “Yeah. I...thanks. For telling me.”

Cas laid a gentle hand on Dean’s. “I don’t say that to pressure you. Again, you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to tell.”

“I do, it’s just...it’s hard. And I’m trying to figure out how to say it.”

Cas nodded patiently.

They were silent for a long moment while Dean gathered his thoughts.

“Okay,” he said, taking a deep breath. Cas’ hand was still warm on his own, and somehow it gave him the courage to begin. “When I was four, my mom —”

There was a loud knock at the door.

Cas and Dean stared at each other with wide, startled eyes until the knock came again.

“One second,” Dean yelled back.

“That’s probably Anna,” Cas sighed.

“Yeah. Dammit. I’ll tell you another time, okay? I promise.”

Cas nodded sadly.

When they opened the door, Dean meant to say hello, but all he could do for a moment was stare. Jesus, Cas wasn’t kidding when he said _red_ hair. How was that even natural?

Anna didn’t seem to care about his lack of manners. She swept into the room, peering around assessingly and ignoring them both. Dean felt oddly exposed. She stalked into the kitchen, then the hallway, looking around.

“Hey, no,” Dean finally said when she went for Sam’s door. “My brother’s asleep in there.”

She glanced back at him sharply for a moment, nodded, and went into his room instead.

“What the hell?” Dean muttered. Cas ran after her, hovering outside the door.

“Anna!” he hissed. “You’re — this is rude! You could have asked permission!”

“It’s okay,” Dean said, coming up behind him. “Nothin’ to hide.”

Though he did tense when Anna reached for his bedside drawer. Okay, so he didn't have anything to hide exactly, but maybe he was a _little_ embarrassed for Cas to see what exactly he kept in there.

Thankfully, Cas seemed to have overcome his shyness about Dean’s room and was grabbing Anna by the arm and leading her back into the living room.

“Unless you have a _warrant_ for this investigation, I think that’s more than enough,” Cas said, glaring at her. Finally, for the first time since she came in, Anna smiled. She even giggled.

“Aw, Cassie, you know I just want to make sure it’s safe for you here.”

“If they wanted to murder me, they could have easily done it last night,” Cas said.

Anna pinched his side playfully. “Don’t go being all _logical_ with me, mister.”

Dean grinned slowly, watching them. If the things Cas said about the rest of their family were true, he was pretty damn grateful Cas had someone like Anna in his life. They reminded him a lot of him and Sam, really.

“He’s _cute,_ ” Anna was saying. Dean realized she was staring at him.

“Uh, I’m not…I don’t…” he stumbled. He wasn't generally awkward with flirting, exactly, and she was definitely his type as far as girls went, but somehow flirting in front of Cas was…not okay. Especially not with his _sister_.

But Cas just rolled his eyes at her.

“Oh, don’t worry,” she smiled. “I’m a lesbian. Doesn't mean I don’t have eyes. Now if only Cas…”

“Anna,” Cas said sharply, without anything playful in his tone now.

“What? I just mean…”

“Do you want anything to drink?” Dean interrupted. “Looks pretty hot outside.”

Anna stared at him for a second, then shrugged. “Sure. I’ll go see what you've got.”

She disappeared into the kitchen.

“Sure, help yourself,” Dean muttered under his breath.

But when he looked back at Cas, Cas was staring back at him gratefully, something wondering in his eyes, and Dean couldn’t manage to be too annoyed with anything in the world.

After a few more minutes of awkward conversation, Anna rifling through his box of movies and managing to chug three entire sodas, she decided it was finally time to leave. Dean was still definitely sad to see Cas go, but he couldn’t say he was sorry the interrogation was over.

Anna slipped back into the kitchen to snag more of their sodas to take on the way — and Dean wasn’t even going to argue, it wasn’t worth it. Suddenly, Cas was pressed up against him, arms wrapped tightly around his waist.

“Thank you,” Cas said.

Dean couldn’t be exactly sure what Cas was thanking him for, but his tone was serious. And whatever it was, anything he’d done for Cas so far he’d do a thousand times over.

So he hugged back tightly, reminding himself _again_ not to press a kiss into that fluffy, soft mess of hair, and said, “’Course. Anything you need.”

Cas’ smile back at Dean was radiant as his sister dragged him out the door. Even after he was gone, the room seemed a little brighter.

But it was a hell of a lot emptier, too.

—————

Once Dean finally got the apartment fully cleaned up from their lunch — and Anna's invasion — it was time to get ready for his first day at his _other_ job. He'd be at the restaurant from 3:00 to 9:00, then back to the club from 9:30 until closing and cleanup and be off at 2:30. Hopefully after he'd been at it for a while he'd be able to pick up some more hours with the restaurant — with Sam unable to work, it was up to Dean to keep them fed and keep a roof over their heads. Sam made a little bit of money while Dean was at work with some blog — Dean didn't know what the hell about, but then, he barely even knew what a _blog_ was to begin with. It only brought in maybe another $125 a month or so, but that was a decent couple grocery trips or gas for the month, so he was grateful for the effort Sam put into it. Sam used to insist he could manage a job of his own to pull his weight, but it invariably ended in disaster, and when someone actually ended up injured last time, he finally conceded defeat.

It killed Dean to see him like this. Most days he was a hollow shell of the Sam he was growing up, before college. Having Cas around, he’d seen Sammy smile more easily than he had in a long time.

It looked like Cas was gonna be good for both of them.

When Dean got out of the shower, Sam was back on the couch, still yawning but looking unusually rested. When he saw Dean he smiled drowsily.

“Well good morning,” Dean said. “You actually look like you slept for once.”

“Yeah, it’s the strangest thing,” Sam said. “I didn’t have any nightmares. I guess I was too distracted to worry about them when I went to sleep.” He shrugged dismissively.

Dean just stared, hardly daring to hope that this could be a real step to recovery.

“Aren’t you gonna be late?” Sam said.

“ _Shit_ ,” Dean hissed, grabbing his keys.

Sam’s laughter followed him out the door. Dean couldn’t stop smiling on the way to the restaurant, replaying Sammy’s light, carefree laughter in his head over and over. Whatever made this happen, he was going to make damn sure it kept happening.

—————

Somehow it was Dean’s lucky day, because he managed to get to the restaurant with ten minutes to spare without getting pulled over.

Ellen, the owner, greeted him with a short nod, calling out to one of the other servers.

“Jo’ll train you tonight,” she said. “She’s my daughter. Now don’t let her make you do _her_ work for her.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Dean grinned. He could already tell he’d like this job much better than the club — he’d fallen in love the second he walked in and saw the long glass case with a dozen different types of pie on display, and then at the actual interview he’d gotten along with Ellen instantly. It made him wish he wouldn’t have to leave this time. He didn’t usually get so easily attached to people, but Cas alone made settling down in one place seem a hell of a lot more appealing.

Jo turned out to be a shorter girl with long, straight blonde hair and a steely look in her eyes as she looked him up and down.

“Hey, I know you,” Dean blurted out.

She raised an eyebrow. “You better not be hitting on me, or I swear —”

“No. What? How was that _hitting_ on you? My pick-up lines are much better than that, thank you very much.”

Jo just glared back.

“Uh, oh. At the club. I work there nights, started last night. Saw you with Anna Novak?”

Jo’s eyes went wide and her cheeks went dark pink. “Shut up,” she hissed.

He laughed.

“You’re just jealous,” she said, whacking him on the arm with a handful of menus. Which actually _hurt_ with a little muscle behind it.

“Nah,” he said. “Not my favorite Novak. She’s nice, though. Sort of. Well, maybe _‘nice’_ is the wrong word.”

“You know them? Thought you were new here.” She guided Dean through using the register. He was only half listening — one register was a lot like another, and he’d worked plenty of entry-level restaurant jobs before.

“I am,” he said. “I met Anna today and Cas last night.”

“Cas? Castiel? The one who’s...you know.”

Dean narrowed his eyes. “Powerless, yeah. Do you have a problem with that?”

“Huh? Pfft, no. I think it’s shitty how people treat him, you know? Is he a nice guy?”

Dean relaxed, falling into step behind her as she led him around the kitchen area. “Yeah, he is. Don’t get how anyone could hate him, he’s great. He’s just so...”

“Lovable?” Jo grinned. “Or is that dreamy look on your face about something else?”

It was Dean’s turn to hiss _“shut up”_ — of course just as Ellen walked by.

“If we’re messin’ around already, I’m sure that means you got through all the training and you’re ready to get out here all by yourself, right?” She said, eyebrow arched. He could see where Jo got it.

He gave her his most charming smile. “I’m sure I can handle it.”

Jo’s jaw clenched, but she said nothing until her mom was out of earshot.

“You idiot,” she said, punching Dean in the shoulder.

“I have worked at more restaurants across the country than I can even _remember_ ,” Dean said. “I can handle it.”

Something in Jo’s eyes softened as she looked at him questioningly, but thankfully she didn’t ask.

“Well,” she sighed. “Let’s get started.”

—————

It easy enough to fall back into the familiar pattern of work, maybe even more so than usual because he and Jo had already settled into playfully picking on each other and joking around all afternoon, and once Ellen saw how capable he really was and how hard he worked, she relaxed and joined in the teasing now and then.

This table was going to suck, though, he could already tell. The guy looked like a douche, and when he got closer he _sounded_ like a douche. His friends didn’t look much better, but at least they were quieter.

“Hey, I’m Dean, I’ll be your —”

“Strawberry milkshake,” the guy said, not even looking up at him.

He was one of _those_ guys. Of course he was.

“No problem,” Dean gritted out. “And for everyone else?”

He took their drink orders and made his way back to the kitchen, passing Jo on the way.

“Do we, uh, do cinnamon rolls for an appetizer? I thought we stopped serving those after breakfast.”

Jo glanced over his shoulder and winced. “Ugh. For him, we do. Just tell the kitchen Gabriel’s here.”

Dean blinked in confusion and glanced backwards, where the guy — Gabriel, apparently, and why did that sound familiar? — was staring back at him with a knowing smirk.

What the fuck ever. Faster he got them fed, faster they’d leave.

Gabriel powered through the plate of cinnamon rolls — alone — before devouring three slices of pie with ice cream and another full milkshake without ordering anything off the regular menu.

“And for dessert, a hot fudge sundae,” he said, grinning, when Dean came to take their plates. Dean fought not to make a face. He’d learned _long_ ago not to comment on someone’s order. Not his problem.

When Dean reached for his plate, his fingers passed through nothing. He recovered barely in time not to knock one of the other guy’s drinks into their lap.

“What the fuck, dude?” Dean said before his brain could catch up with his mouth. Gabriel just grinned, the rest of his friends snickering. The fake plate vanished.

“I knew I hadn’t seen you around before,” Gabriel said with a smirk. “You don’t know who I am, do you?”

That was the second time in two days he’d heard that now, though it was promising to be a lot less pleasant this time around.

“Should I?” Dean sighed.

“Gabriel. Gabriel _Novak_.”

“Oh, you’re one of Cas’ brothers,” Dean blurted out.

Gabriel’s eyes narrowed. “ _Cas_? Nobody calls him _Cas_.”

“Well he sure doesn’t seem to mind when I do it,” Dean said with a smirk of his own.

“How the fuck do you know my baby brother?” Gabriel practically growled. Before Dean could answer, Gabriel’s expression suddenly cleared and a playful grin was back on his face.

“Wait, you’ve gotta be the guy that took him home last night. Shit, didn’t think he had it in him. Look at you!”

“Uh,” Dean said. “Thanks?”

“Yeah, yeah. Anna told me about you. She says you’re okay. So,” he shrugged. “I guess you’re okay. But, you know, you ever hurt him, blah blah. Now c’mon, fudge sundae.” He actually _snapped._

Dean rolled his eyes, but went.

“Gimme your phone,” Gabriel said as soon as Dean came back with his sundae and the check.

“What?”

“Pretty but dumb, huh? Your phone. Give.”

“For _what?”_

“Did Cassie give you his number?”

“Uh, no. Never really came up.”

“Thought so. _Give me your phone,_ dumbass.”

Dean’s desire to have Cas’ number definitely outweighed his distaste for letting Gabriel tell him what to do. He handed his phone over, watching carefully to make sure Gabriel didn’t do anything more than put Cas’ number in.

Over his shoulder, Dean could see him typing out a message. _“CASSIE! MET YOUR BOYTOY. THIS IS HIS PHONE. DON’T SAY I NEVER DID ANYTHING FOR YOU. — G”_

“You’re welcome,” Gabriel smirked as he handed it back.

“Yeah, yeah, thanks,” Dean grumbled.

“So, _Dean_ , what exactly are your intentions with my baby brother?” Gabriel said, slurping loudly on his spoon. Dean shuddered.

“Uh, we’re friends,” Dean shrugged. “We watched some movies with my brother and I made him food. Seems like he could use a couple friends.”

Gabriel’s expression softened minutely. “Yeah. Yeah, he could. Hey, maybe you could help us out.”

Dean narrowed his eyes. “With what?”

“He — eh, I’m sure you know already, he doesn’t have any powers. _Yet_. And he’s a stubborn little brat when he wants to be. I don’t like the Institute any more than he does, but, y’know, there’s _other_ ways to solve this kinda problem. It’s not like we don’t have the money. And if his dear new _friends_ were on our side, maybe he’d be a little easier to convince...”

“You’re fucking kidding me. If you care about him so much, why can’t you fucking accept him like he is?”

“ _Because_ I care about him, you moron. Do you know how shitty the world is to the powerless? You think I want that for my baby brother? I want him to be _happy.”_

“He’s _happy_ how he is,” Dean growled.

“Ehh, you wouldn’t understand.”

“Yeah, I kind of would, since I’m powerless myself. But no, tell me more about how shitty the world is. I could use some education.”

“So you _know_ how miserable it is and you still want Cassie to have to go through that? Shame on you, Dean-o.”

“You know what? Fuck you. Cas is an adult and he’s made his own choices, and you can at least fucking respect that.” He shook his head in disgust. “At least he has Anna, even if none of his own fucking brothers will stand behind him. And before you make some smartass comment about _that,_ yeah, I’m a big brother too. And you couldn’t even fucking imagine the shit my brother’s gone through and what I’ve had to do for him. But I’m always gonna be there for him, because that’s what families _do._ ”

He didn’t turn around as he left, not wanting to see the smug smirk on that asshole’s face again. He ran their credit card in silence, not meeting Gabriel’s eyes, and for whatever reason, Gabriel left him alone for the few seconds he had to be at their table to give it back. He kept talking to his friends like Dean wasn’t even there.

Finally, another ten minutes later, they were done.

Gabriel gave him a lazy mock-salute as they left, his friends laughing around him. Dean clenched his jaw in frustration and went to start clearing the table.

Under the signed credit slip was a $100 bill. Below it was a torn piece of paper.

 _Glad Cassie has a friend like you,_ it said.

Dean had never been more confused in his life.

—————

He got to the club a few minutes early and closed his eyes, leaning his head back into the seat. He was tired, sure, but it was Sunday, and it shouldn’t be nearly as busy as it was last night.

Wouldn’t it be great if Cas came back again, though? Just to visit him, maybe.

There was no way it’d happen, but it was a nice thought.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, startling him out of his daydreams.

“ _Hello, Dean,”_ the text said. Dean knew he was grinning like an idiot, but at least nobody was there to see. Hell, he probably wouldn’t care anyway.

“ _heya cas,”_ he typed out.

“ _I want to apologize for anything my brother may have said or done to you,”_ the next message read.

“ _no worries. at least i get to talk to you now. can’t believe i forgot to ask for your number before.”_

“ _That’s true. I don’t know how I would have found you again otherwise.”_

“ _hmm maybe by coming to see me at the club again?”_

“ _Oh. That probably would have worked, yes.”_

“ _speaking of, i need to go in. my shift starts in 10. keep texting if you want it’ll probably be a slow night.”_

“ _As long as it won’t get you in trouble.”_

“Somebody’s perky today,” Pamela said with a wink as he walked in the employee door. Dean just grinned in return.

The club wasn’t dead, but it wasn’t packed either, and Dean managed to actually take his breaks. He texted Cas throughout the night, talking about — well, nothing and everything, really.

He learned that Cas was still interested in art, but more interested in animals. He didn’t get to watch movies growing up, but he did manage to get his hands on some decent books through some heavy abuse of Anna’s library card, and was happy to learn that he and Dean shared a love of Lord of the Rings.

“ _How is work going?”_

“ _boring as hell but i’m talking to this really great guy i met yesterday so i’m having a pretty good night.”_

“ _Oh. I should leave you alone so you can talk, then.”_

“ _i meant you, dork.”_

“ _Oh! I’m sorry. I should have realized. I’m not very socially adept sometimes, especially over text.”_

“ _no it’s okay. it’s cute.”_

Shit. Shit, he really sent that.

Goddammit, Dean needed to learn how to fucking think before he spoke — typed, whatever. His face had to be bright red now. At least Cas couldn’t see _that._

“So you think I’m cute?”

Dean jumped, nearly knocking over the stool he’d been leaning against. “ _Jesus_ , Cas,” he panted, heart pounding.

“I’m sorry,” Cas said, grinning widely, not looking at all sorry. “I didn’t realize you’d be so caught up in talking to me you would forget there were other people in the room.”

Dean _knew_ he was blushing now. “I, uh. Hi.”

Cas’ grin relaxed into a fond smile. “Hello, Dean.”

Dean smiled sheepishly back. He couldn’t help noticing Cas was dressed completely differently today — and honestly, it suited him. However hot Cas might have looked in the clothes Anna had apparently dressed him up in yesterday, he looked far more comfortable in his rumpled trench coat. “So, you...here with Anna again?”

“No. I just wanted to see you. I had her drop me off.” Cas’ eyes widened. “I — is that too much? Should I not have come back so soon? I’m not sure...maybe I should have asked?”

“Cas, _Cas,_ ” Dean said, squeezing his shoulder. “It’s okay. I’m happy to see you, okay? I really am. You just startled me a bit.”

Cas visibly relaxed. “Okay.”

“So you planning on coming over for more movies, or you gotta get home?”

“If you don’t mind,” Cas said, shrugging and looking down at his feet.

“I told you, you’re always welcome,” Dean grinned.

“Who’s your friend, Dean?” Pamela said from behind them.

“Oh, uh...hey, Pam. Sorry, wasn’t trying to slack off, I just...”

She whacked him lightly on the arm. “Not what I asked. And as if there’s anything for you to do tonight anyway.”

Dean chuckled. “Okay then. This is Cas. Cas, this is my boss, Pamela.”

[ ](http://i.imgur.com/2YsuMFS.jpg)

Cas shook her hand solemnly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

She grinned, looking him up and down. “Well aren’t you a sweetheart.”

Cas flushed lightly, and Dean felt something hot and twisting clawing at his stomach. He had no right to be jealous, he knew he didn’t, but he couldn’t help it.

When Cas scooted closer to Dean, an uncomfortable look on his face, Dean felt a guilty sort of relief.

“Oh, don’t worry, I don’t bite. You know, you look so familiar. If the light in here wasn’t so bad...”

Cas took a deep breath. “I’m...my full name is Castiel Novak, ma’am.”

“Ma’am! Dean, you hold on to this one, he’s _adorable_. And at least _one_ of the Novaks has some manners. Well, you have a good time, and let me know if you need anything, okay sugar?”

Cas blinked at her, mouth hanging slightly open in shock. “I — thank you,” he mumbled. She winked and walked away back into the crowd.

“She didn’t care,” he said, apparently to himself. “She knew, but she didn’t...”

“She hired me, didn’t she?” Dean said, nudging Cas gently with his shoulder. “She knew I was powerless and it didn’t make any difference to her. See, not everyone has it out for us. There’s good people out there. You just have to find them.”

Cas nodded silently, eyes wide and distant.

Cas went through three of the bubbly strawberry drinks this time — and they weren’t _bad_ , Dean decided when Cas made him taste one, but how the hell he managed three of them without his teeth aching he had no idea. He hadn’t just been bragging about his tolerance, either — they could have been straight water for all they seemed to affect him. He was just silent and thoughtful most of the night.

When they got in the Impala after Dean’s shift, Dean paused before he started the car. “You okay, Cas?”

“I’m fine,” Cas said quickly. “Just...thinking. About what you said. About Pamela. How many people like her there might be out there. How...wrong my mother may actually be.”

Dean grinned. “I’ll have to introduce you to some more of my friends.”

Cas looked up at him with watery eyes. “I’d like that a lot,” he said quietly. Dean just stared back for a minute, smiling softly, every part of him aching to lean over and kiss the lost, confused look off of Cas’ face.

It was that thought that spurred him on to turn on the car.

“We better get home if we’re gonna get a movie in and get any sleep,” he said.

Cas just nodded silently.


	3. Chapter 3

The drive was quiet, but Castiel’s head was loud.

The friendly, genuine smile on Pamela’s face kept replaying in his head. But increasingly, so did the way Dean’s face twisted up while she talked to him.

He was never really any good at deciphering people’s reactions. Reading expressions and body language had never come easily to him. But something about Dean just seemed to click for Castiel.

Dean had been _jealous_.

Castiel didn’t know what to do with that information, but just thinking about it made his heart beat faster. He _enjoyed_ the thought of Dean being jealous over him. He enjoyed the thought that Dean might want him.

Did he want Dean, too? Is that what this was?

He didn’t want to think about the other things for now anyway — his family, the people who hated him, the people who might _not_ hate him — the things he’s been lied to about — it hurt too much to think about. He didn’t know where to begin to untangle it all.

Comparably, this was a much more palatable problem to work out.

He was already staring at Dean. It was easy enough to let his eyes trace over his features and down to his lips.

They looked so _soft_. He wondered what it would be like to kiss them. The thought made him shiver — yes, that was a nice thought. That was easily something he wanted.

And more?

He trailed his eyes over Dean as they drove, contemplating.

The thought of bringing Dean pleasure was overwhelmingly appealing, that much he knew for sure. To make Dean feel good, feel cherished and wanted and _happy_ — oh, Castiel would do anything.

And despite the half-teasing jabs from Gabriel on the subject, he _had_ explored his own body before and enjoyed it very much. Not that he was going to tell that to his _brother,_ who was already worryingly invested in his little brother’s sex life and sexuality.

In any case, he was sure he’d very much enjoy anything he did with Dean that much more than when he’d been alone.

And if Dean might cherish and want him in return...

Castiel felt awful for hoping that Sam would be asleep when they got to Dean’s apartment.

Maybe it would be too soon for Dean, though. Castiel wasn’t sure where the etiquette lay — it was acceptable to sleep with someone the first night you met them if you weren’t going to see them again, but weren’t you supposed to wait longer with someone you planned to continue seeing? All those unspoken rules felt very stupid to him, anyway. If two adults wanted to be together, that should be the end of it.

At the very least, Castiel had to let him know where he stood, how he felt. This was the first time he’d ever been interested in anyone, in any way at all — he wasn’t going to let the chance to do something about it go by quietly.

By the time they got there, Castiel had already envisioned several ways to come at the issue, from just kissing Dean to explaining at length how he felt.

When they got inside, Sam was sprawled out over the couch anyway, snoring.

“Dammit,” Dean sighed. “Uh, I could carry the TV into my room for the night so we can watch something, but my bed’s not that big.”

“That’s fine,” Castiel said quickly. _That’s perfect, actually,_ he thought.

“You won’t be...uncomfortable?”

“Not at all,” Castiel said. “I enjoy being close to you very much.”

Dean’s cheeks turned a beautiful red, and Castiel bit the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning in response to it.

Castiel carried the box of movies, trailing behind Dean as he set the TV up on his dresser across from the bed. He slipped out of his socks and shoes and shuffled off his trenchcoat while Dean was getting the DVD player.

He was down to slacks, shirt and undershirt. Should he take his pants off? Would wearing only his boxers be too forward, or would it be a step in the right direction? They were probably going to fall asleep right after the movie ended, anyway — they hadn’t even brought any snacks with them, and he had heard Dean already brushing his teeth in the other bathroom.

“Those can’t be too comfy to sleep in,” Dean said as he came in. “I should have some extra sweats somewhere. Gimme a sec and I’ll find them.”

Oh, yes. Wearing something of Dean’s sounded perfect.

He stood staring at himself in the mirror after brushing his own teeth. It felt strange to be wearing a button-up shirt with sweatpants, and his undershirt wasn’t the most attractive thing he owned.

He shrugged and took them off before walking back into the bedroom, tossing his clothes down on top of his coat. From his position in the bed, Dean’s jaw dropped.

Something hot flared low in Castiel’s stomach at the look on Dean’s face, and it was absolutely delicious. He couldn’t help grinning this time.

He crawled in next to Dean, sliding under the covers. He swore he could hear Dean swallow hard.

“Okay,” Dean said in a shaking voice. “Let’s start the movie.”

Castiel had picked one that looked less interesting on purpose tonight — though it was nicer than he’d thought it might be, and he might have to rewatch it later.

As the prince approached Aurora on the screen, Castiel looked up to find Dean glancing down at him. He looked guiltily away again.

That was enough of that.

“Dean,” Castiel murmured. Dean shivered next to him. “Look at me.”

Dean turned back to him, eyes wide and vulnerable.

“I’d like to kiss you right now,” Castiel said. “If that’s all right.”

Dean gaped at him, and for one terrible second Castiel was sure he’d misjudged everything.

“Fuck, I...yeah, yeah it’s all right. Are you sure?”

Castiel smiled in relief and anticipation. “Very.”

The tension seemed to drain out of Dean’s shoulders. He cupped his hand gently behind Castiel’s neck and pulled him in.

 _Soft_ and _warm_ registered immediately, and then the way Dean’s hand trembled on his skin, and finally the fact that they were _much_ too far apart.

Castiel pulled away. Dean’s face fell until Castiel scooted closer, until they were pressed together, and tilted his head up for another kiss.

Castiel sighed happily against Dean’s mouth. Kissing didn’t feel quite like Anna had described it to him, but it was somehow better. It was _Dean_ there, Dean’s skin against his, Dean’s arms around him, _Dean’s_ hand splayed protectively over his back.

“Cas,” Dean murmured. “What, um.” He cleared his throat. “What exactly do you wanna do here?”

“I don’t know,” Castiel said, nuzzling his face into Dean’s neck, and oh, this was nice too. He could feel Dean’s pulse racing, and knew it was because of _him._ “I’ve never done anything before. Never wanted to. Does that bother you?”

Dean chuckled, and Castiel could feel it vibrating down his throat. “Nah. Makes me feel kinda special. But...” He pulled away, looking Castiel in the eyes. “You...you’re doing this ‘cause you want to, right? You don’t have to feel obligated to do this ‘cause I’ve been nice to you or anything, okay?”

Castiel shook his head, stamping down on the surge of frustration, trying to appreciate what Dean was trying to do, even if it did feel more than a little patronizing. “I know. I _want_ to, as long as you do, too. Will you come back over here now?”

Dean relaxed and grinned. “Bossy.” Instead of leaning back in, he tugged gently at Castiel, guiding him to straddle his lap. “This okay?”

“I promise I’ll tell you if something’s not okay.”

Dean swallowed hard. “All right. Okay.”

It was even better kissing pressed up close like this. Castiel wound his arms around Dean’s neck, shivering when Dean ran his hands gently over his sides.

Dean groaned suddenly and tilted his head back, and Castiel finally realized he’d been moving his hips in a slow circle against Dean’s. He pressed a little harder, curious. Oh, there it was — Dean was hard for him, _because_ of him, and almost as an afterthought he realized he was getting hard too.

“Fuck, Cas,” Dean moaned as Castiel rubbed them together again. He pressed a kiss to Castiel’s neck and _oh_ Castiel didn’t know his neck could feel that way. He sighed in pleasure as Dean trailed kisses down his neck, across his collarbone, over his chest.

“Dean!” He cried out sharply as Dean flicked his tongue over a nipple.

“That good or bad?” Dean asked, looking up at him with wide, attentive eyes. His breath was hot and cool at once against Castiel’s wet skin.

“Good,” Castiel panted. “More, please.”

Dean grinned hungrily and dove back in, swirling his tongue around it and sucking gently.

Castiel couldn’t hold in the soft whimpers, didn’t really care to try. “Dean,” he groaned. He dug his fingers into Dean’s hair, accidentally tugging harder than he meant to. Dean moaned and in return nipped gently at Castiel’s nipple.

He looked up again when Castiel gasped. “Good?”

“Mm,” Castiel sighed happily. “I think so. It’s...different. Do you like that done to you?”

“Yeah. Kind of a lot.”

“Noted,” Castiel murmured.

Dean’s hands had migrated down to the waistband of his sweatpants. He ran his fingers around the edge questioningly. Castiel nodded and pulled away, sitting back on his heels to try to navigate the pants off without getting too far from Dean. He lost his balance and toppled backwards anyway.

Dean chuckled and helped to slip them off, and then he was hovering over Castiel, grinning down at him.

“Hey,” he whispered.

Castiel grinned. “Hello, Dean.” He reached up and smoothed his hand over Dean’s chest. “This seems a little unfair. You’re still completely dressed.”

“I’ll get there,” Dean said. “Not done with you yet.”

“At least take your shirt off.”

Dean shrugged and pulled the shirt over his head. He had a tattoo, Castiel realized, another spike of heat shooting down his spine. Automatically he reached out for it, tracing his fingers over it. And since his hand was there, he might as well...

Dean gasped when Castiel reached his nipple and rubbed gently over it. The gasp ended in a low whimper when Castiel experimented with a soft pinch. “Fuck,” he hissed. “Yeah, fuck, that’s good. Little harder.”

Castiel was awestruck, laying underneath Dean, watching him come apart above him with such simple touches. Dean’s face was so beautiful in pleasure. Castiel _needed_ more of it.

He leaned in and took one of Dean’s nipples in his mouth, propping himself up on an elbow while his other hand tweaked and rubbed at Dean’s other nipple.

All it really tasted like was skin. Maybe a little salty from the sweat of the day’s work. But Dean tensed above him, quivering, letting out a steady stream of soft moans and curses. Castiel could feel himself instinctively humping upwards into empty air, and he knew he was aching and dripping, but nothing in the world could be sweeter than listening to Dean moaning for him.

Dean pulled away, panting. “Fuck, Cas.”

Castiel frowned at him. “I was enjoying that.”

Dean kissed him softly. “They get too sensitive after a bit. And anyway, we haven’t even gotten to...”

Castiel gasped as Dean took him in hand, squeezing gently.

“That good?” Dean murmured, grinning like he already knew.

“Yes,” Castiel panted. He thrust his hips up, but Dean moved his hand along with him so he didn’t get any friction with the movement. Castiel whined in frustration.

“Don’t worry,” Dean whispered. “Gonna take care of you.”

He started at Castiel’s neck again, kissing and nipping gently at his skin — and okay, yes, a little teeth was definitely good. He only paused briefly over his nipples this time before moving on to kiss his way down over Castiel’s belly, running his hands over his sides again tenderly. He stopped with his mouth open, hovering directly between Castiel’s legs, breathing hotly only inches away, and Castiel shivered in anticipation.

Dean grinned playfully and instead kissed down Castiel’s inner thighs, down one side to his ankle and back up, then down the other side, until Castiel was trembling in frustration and want.

“ _Please,”_ he groaned.

“Anything you want,” Dean whispered, and then his tongue was on him and _oh, oh_ that was good, and his hand was on his shaft while his tongue swirled around the head and it was almost overwhelming, almost too good, but he heard himself whimpering, “ _more, Dean, please, need you_.” Dean moaned and took Castiel deeper into his mouth.

It was so hot, so wet and soft and good. He threw his head back, eyes screwed shut as Dean lavished him with attention.

Castiel’s eyes snapped open at the sound of a zipper. He looked down to see Dean pulling himself out of his pants with his free hand, stroking himself. Castiel could see him glistening in the dim light, and he had never needed anything as badly as he needed to touch Dean right now.

“Stop,” Castiel panted.

Dean looked up, eyes wide with concern. “You okay?”

“Good,” Castiel nodded shakily. “So good. But I...I need to touch you. Please, Dean, let me touch you too.”

Dean groaned, squeezing his eyes shut for a second as if he was overwhelmed too. He finally kicked his pants off and tossed them off the bed, then crawled up over Cas again.

Castiel traced his fingers over Dean’s skin, unable to concentrate on any one place. There was so much of Dean he wanted to touch. He wanted to memorize him, learn every inch of him. He realized with alarm that he was treating this like he was never going to have it again.

“Dean,” he said urgently. “Dean, are we going to do this again?”

“What?” Dean said as if dazed. “We’re not...we’re not even done with this time yet. I...’course, Cas, if you want it. M’yours if you want me. God, Cas, want you so bad.”

Castiel sighed in pleasure and relief and pulled Dean down for another kiss as he finally got his hand around him. He was warm and heavy in Castiel’s palm, solid and smooth. Castiel stroked his hand over him experimentally. Dean moaned into the kiss, eyelids fluttering.

“Hold — hold on,” Dean said. “Lemme get something.” He pulled away to rummage around in the drawer of his bedside table. He pulled out a long, thin bottle. Castiel tensed.

“Dean, I don’t think I’m...”

“No, not that,” Dean said. “You trust me?”

Castiel relaxed back into the sheets, took a deep breath and nodded. Dean smiled and kissed him softly. Castiel watched curiously as Dean poured a generous amount of lube into one hand, rubbing his fingers over his palm to warm it, before tossing the bottle aside.

Dean crawled back over him again with a grin. Castiel narrowed his eyes in confusion. He was sure this position wasn’t conducive to _anything_ they would need lube for.

Until Dean took them both together in his hand, and Castiel gasped, back arching.

“Good?” Dean whispered.

All Castiel could do was groan in response, thrusting his hips up lightly into Dean’s slick hand, but that seemed to be answer enough.

Dean started slowly, pumping his hand rhythmically and kissing and sucking gently at Castiel’s neck until he was begging for more.

Dean closed his eyes and rested his forehead on Castiel’s as he picked up speed. Castiel couldn’t breathe for all the little moans and gasps escaping his lips as he gripped Dean’s shoulders tight and thrust into his hand. Nothing he’d done to himself had ever felt like _this_ before. He was dying, every point of contact with Dean’s body like a constant buzz of electricity.

“Dean, Dean, _Dean,_ more, _please_ more,” he whimpered helplessly.

“Yeah,” Dean groaned. “C’mon, Cas. So close...”

Only a few seconds later Dean’s eyes snapped open and his breath caught in his throat. Castiel watched intently, drinking in Dean’s pleasure. He was almost more desperate to see Dean come than for his own release.

Dean’s back arched suddenly as he cried out Castiel’s name, and Castiel could feel him pulsing hot and wet over him and _that was because of him, Dean was coming so hard because it was_ Castiel _under him_ and —

Castiel screamed with the force of his own orgasm as it hit him, every muscle trembling as Dean worked him through it with a slick fist. Dean didn’t stop until Castiel lay whimpering and twitching at every movement.

Finally, Dean collapsed next to him. The sudden distance felt so cold, until Dean tugged him into his side and maneuvered them until Castiel’s head was on his chest.

Castiel closed his eyes, relishing the sound of Dean’s heart still racing as they came down, breathing together.

Castiel’s body still hummed with pleasure, soft and warm now instead of urgent. _Endorphins_ , he thought, but he couldn’t bring himself to care much about the mechanics right now. All he could do was bask in it.

When they had finally recovered, Dean tilted Castiel’s face up for a soft kiss. Castiel sighed into it happily, then broke into slightly hysterical laughter.

“What?” Dean asked, narrowing his eyes at him.

“You got...you just got lube on my chin,” Castiel said, turning his face into Dean’s chest to muffle his giggles.

Dean burst into laughter with him.

“Shit,” he said. “Sorry. Where the fuck’s my shirt?”

Castiel grabbed it off the floor and handed it to Dean, closing his eyes happily while Dean carefully cleaned them up.

“Probably still need a shower though,” Dean mumbled. “But that’d mean...getting up.”

“Mm, no,” Castiel said. “I vote no to getting up.”

“Good,” Dean said with a yawn. “Good plan.”

Castiel let Dean shift and tug at him until they were right side up on the bed again, then under the covers and on the pillow. Dean’s arm wrapping protectively around his waist was the last sensation he registered before falling asleep.

—————

Castiel woke up warm, almost too warm, sweating lightly under the covers with Dean still wrapped tightly around him. He couldn’t bring himself to mind too much.

His stomach rumbled harshly. He was surprised to realize he hadn’t eaten since before he left the house yesterday.

“Deeean,” he said softly, shaking Dean’s shoulder. Dean’s lips twitched up.

“Mm, Cas,” Dean sighed in his sleep. Castiel smiled so hard his cheeks actually hurt.

He turned over to face Dean fully and became acutely aware that Dean was hard.

And he never had gotten to taste him last night, had he?

He tugged the covers off of them and pulled away, smiling when Dean whimpered in his sleep and tried to tug him back.

Castiel scooted downwards, propping himself up on an elbow. With Dean asleep, he was free to examine him carefully, to appreciate every little detail. He breathed in the strange musk of him, traced his hands over his smooth skin, ran his fingers over his shaft and enjoyed how Dean shivered in his sleep. He ran his thumb over the head, tracing around the edge, until Dean whimpered and pressed into his touch.

“C-Cas?” He mumbled.

Castiel looked up to see Dean blinking blearily down at him. He grinned and positioned his mouth just like Dean had the night before, breathing hot and teasing over him. Dean’s eyes widened, and Castiel could hear his breathing growing harsh already.

“Can I?” Castiel asked, licking his lips. He could see Dean’s eyes flicker down to his mouth and back up.

“You wanna...? Oh, fuck, yeah, go for it.”

Castiel wasted no time in playing with him, getting as much of Dean in his mouth as he could stand.

“Fuck!” Dean gasped. “Sh-shit, _Cas.”_

He was so hot and heavy on Castiel’s tongue. It was almost too much, but if Dean could do it, so could he. He tried to take it a little deeper and gagged.

Dean reached a hand down to stroke through Castiel’s hair, not pulling or guiding, just soothing. “S’okay,” he said in a strained voice. “Take it slow.”

Castiel pulled back a little, using his hand to stroke Dean and leaving just the head in his mouth while he worked it over with his tongue.

“Oh, fuck, that’s good,” Dean moaned.

Castiel’s chest warmed with the praise. He shifted himself a little so he could explore with his other hand, tracing over Dean’s thighs — earning a beautiful little whimper, cataloging that as a sensitive area for Dean — and further up.

When he took Dean’s sac in his hand and rolled gently, Dean groaned loudly. He was leaking steadily into Castiel’s mouth now — the texture was a little off-putting, maybe, but the taste wasn’t bad, and it was _Dean_ , and it was so intimate Castiel moaned with the pleasure of simply being so close to him.

“Fuck,” Dean whimpered. “Gonna...gonna come, Cas.” He pushed weakly at Castiel’s shoulder, but Castiel glared up at him and didn’t move. He _wanted_ this, dammit.

Dean gave up and twisted his hands in the sheets instead, panting faster. He gasped Castiel’s name as he finally came, back arching off the bed.

Castiel spluttered a little at first — he’d been expecting it, but not that it would be so _fast_. He swallowed what he could, though, sucking gently on the tip to get it all.

“Stopstopstop,” Dean hissed finally. “Too much.”

Castiel pulled off with a smile, wiping his lips with the back of his hand. Dean sat up, laughing. “Hell of a way to wake up, Cas.”

“Mm,” Castiel agreed. “Breakfast?”

“You don’t need to...?” Dean glanced down. Castiel had barely even noticed he was hard too.

Castiel shook his head. “I’ll be fine. I’m too hungry.”

Dean shrugged. “If you say so.” He leaned in for a kiss, open-mouthed and slow, sighing happily. Castiel felt a little thrill at realizing Dean could probably taste himself on Castiel’s tongue.

Dean leaned his forehead gently against Castiel’s. “So. Breakfast.”

“Pancakes?” Castiel said hopefully. Dean chuckled.

“Anything you want, Cas.”

[ ](http://i.imgur.com/PSFSQRS.jpg)

Sam was still in the living room, this time sitting up with an old laptop perched on his knees, a pair of cheap earbuds in.

He tugged them out and looked up as they came out of Dean’s room.

“Not that I’m not happy for you,” Sam said flatly, “but this is your one warning. Keep it _down_ or let me know if I need to leave first. Got it?”

Dean laughed and flipped him off as he went into the kitchen.

“I’m sorry, Sam,” Castiel said quietly, face hot. Sam smiled back awkwardly.

“Um. It’s okay. Just, uh...I’d rather not hear it next time. Okay?”

Castiel nodded solemnly.

Sam shook his head, still smiling, and closed his laptop. He walked into the kitchen and sat at the table. “Pancakes _again_?”

“What Cas wants, Cas gets,” Dean said. “Deal with it.”

Sam rolled his eyes. Castiel blushed as he sat down.

“Here, I’ll add some blueberries. That healthy enough for you, Dr. Oz?”

Castiel smiled as they bickered playfully while Dean cooked.

“I gotta get out of the house for a while,” Sam said eventually. “I feel like I’ve been stuck indoors forever. I saw a little cafe a couple blocks away, I think I’m gonna walk down there and get some writing done.”

Dean frowned. “You’ll be careful, right?”

“’Course I will. You guys just have fun, okay?”

It took another ten minutes of reassurances from Sam before Dean let him leave.

“You’re very protective of him,” Cas said as the door closed.

Dean shrugged, looking away. “Yeah, well. Kind of grew up like that. Hard to let it go.”

“Do you...still feel like telling me why?”

Dean sighed.

“Yeah. If we’re gonna do this...yeah, I want you to know.”

 _Do this?_ Cas thought, heart thumping hopefully, remembering Dean’s mumbled promise of _yours, if you want me_.

“Can we go lay back down for this, though?” Dean said, looking at him almost sheepishly.

“Of course,” Castiel said.

Once they were snugly wrapped up under the covers again, Dean sighed.

“Okay. Uh...don’t...don’t ask any questions until I’m done, okay? It’s gonna be hard enough to say once.”

Castiel nodded, lacing his fingers together with Dean’s.

“When I was about four, my mom died.”

Castiel tensed, wanting to say something, to offer his sympathy, but he bit his lip and stayed silent.

“Dad didn’t take it well. I mean, he really...it broke him, you know? She was his entire world. And he...shit, I’m messing this up. It...my mom didn’t just _die_. She died in a fire.”

Castiel squeezed Dean’s hand in comfort.

“In Sammy’s nursery,” Dean continued quietly. “In... _only_ Sammy’s nursery. He was only six months old, man. But he...Sam’s looked it up, there’s never been any reports of powers manifesting before the kid turned ten. Not ever. But...I know it sounds crazy, but it _was_ Sammy’s power. He had a nightmare or something, and she went in to comfort him, and it...he...”

Dean swallowed hard. “I woke up to screaming. Dad went in to try to save her, but it was too late when he got to them. The fire...didn’t even touch Sammy. Dad still handed him to me and yelled at me to get out of the house with him. And Sam, he stopped crying as soon as I took him.” Dean chuckled weakly. “I always could calm him down better’n anyone else.”

“Nobody believed Dad, of course. Who’d believe a kid could have his powers at six months old? And powers like _that_? The police thought he...maybe Dad killed her. Like he set the fire. Bullshit.” Dean shook his head. “But there was no other explanation they thought made sense. So we...left. Just us and the car. We ran from the police mostly, at first, and then Dad got this idea that maybe someone out there could _fix_ Sam. Change his power, or take it away, or something. But no one can do that. Those black market chips...they’re bullshit, they just give some fake, weak-ass powers so you can say you got something. Nothing real. And nothing they can do to change real powers.”

“So we just kept driving, and Dad kept looking. He’d find a lead and drag us there, leave us in a hotel for a few days while he chased it down. Come back for Sammy if he thought he had something. Never found anything real, but he sure spent a fuckton of money we didn’t have on the bullshit he did find. I had to take care of Sam more or less by myself. That was my _job_. That’s...it’s the only thing I was good for. So I learned how to hustle pool when I got older, got good at pickpocketing. Getting little things out of the grocery store in my pockets. Whatever I could do, y’know? I’m not proud of it, but I don’t regret it. I had to do what I could for Sammy.”

He sighed heavily. “But it wasn’t enough. When I got older and I never showed any signs of magic, Dad...I mean, he was never exactly _affectionate,_ but I could always tell he was at least sort of proud of me for taking care of Sammy, y’know? But the older I got, the angrier he got with me. He was, uh...pretty old-fashioned. Said I couldn’t take care of Sammy if I was powerless. Said he...he didn’t _raise me like that_ , whatever the fuck that means. Like I could control it. And then Sam went off to college, and Dad and me, we just drifted for a while. He kept looking for people to fix Sammy, but with him gone, he just didn’t seem to believe in it anymore. Then about...I dunno, few years later Dad just left. I woke up and his stuff was gone, and it was just me alone in a hotel in the middle of nowhere. But he left me the keys to the Impala — he must’ve stolen someone’s car when he left — and some cash, more than I thought we even had. So I went and tracked Sam down. I don’t know why. Dunno what I thought I was gonna do when I found him.”

“But he — no. There’s some of this that Sam’s gotta tell you if he wants to, not me. But we...we move around a lot because Sam...he still doesn’t know how to control his powers all the time. When he stays calm it’s okay, but if he gets mad, or if his nightmares get really bad again, things can get kinda explosive. Like, I mean _actually_ explosive. So we try to settle down someplace, and it’s fine until something happens and he has another accident, and then we have to leave. Shitty way to live, I guess, but...I gotta take care of him. I try, anyway. Dad never called either of us again after he left, and I stopped trying to call him after a while. For all we know he might be dead.”

Dean sighed heavily, rubbing his eyes with the hand that wasn’t curled around Castiel’s shoulder. He opened his eyes and looked down at Castiel. “So, uh...you can ask questions now, if you want.”

Castiel pulled his face closer and kissed him hard. “Dean Winchester, you are a good man,” he whispered, before laying his head back down on Dean’s chest.

Dean was quiet for a moment. He turned on his side and wrapped both arms around Castiel, tugging him close.

They lay still in the quiet room for a long time, holding each other tightly.

—————

Castiel was startled out of a light doze by the front door slamming.

“Dean!” Sam yelled. “You’re gonna be late for work!”

“Oh, shit,” Dean hissed, struggling out from under the blankets and out of the bed, racing for the bathroom.

Castiel yawned and stretched, padding out into the living room and blinking sleepily at Sam.

Dean raced by again, grabbing a towel from the closet. He stopped in front of Castiel and wrapped his arms around him, kissing him softly, before rushing away again towards the shower.

When Castiel looked back at Sam he was smiling fondly. He set his bag down carefully on the floor and flopped down on the couch. Castiel wandered over to sit next to him.

“Do you feel better?” Castiel asked.

“Yeah, I do. I hate being stuck inside all the time. It’s...for the best, I guess, but it still sucks.”

Castiel nodded solemnly. “I understand.”

Sam looked over at him carefully. “Oh? Has Dean...talked to you about everything yet?”

“While you were gone,” Castiel said quietly. “Though he didn’t tell me _everything_. He said there were some parts that were for you to tell. You don’t have to,” he added quickly.

“What’d he leave out?”

“After your father left him alone and he came to find you at college.”

“Oh,” Sam said faintly.

“You really don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

Sam was quiet for a long time, only the sound of the shower through the thin walls filling the silence.

“There was a girl,” Sam said softly. “Her name was Jessica. Jess.” A ghost of a smile touched his lips. He swallowed hard. “I didn't mean to,” he said. “You have to understand, I never wanted to hurt anybody. I loved her.”

“I believe you,” Castiel said.

Sam closed his eyes. “I was gonna ask her to marry me,” he whispered. “I was so nervous. I made reservations at her favorite place, I had a ring...it wasn't anything fancy, but I don't think she would've cared. When we went to sleep the night before I was so...I was so scared. I couldn't stop thinking about it. When I finally fell asleep, I had the really bad nightmares again. About my mom. They kind of...they kind of looked alike, you know? I’ve only seen pictures of my mom, but they really did.” He cleared his throat and stared up at the ceiling. “When I woke up, our apartment was on fire.”

Castiel's heart dropped into his stomach. He laid a gentle hand on Sam's shoulder.

“She was...she was already gone. Dean showed up that night, which was...I guess lucky, if you could call it that. I could have been charged with murder, you know? But I probably would have deserved it.”

“Sam,” Castiel said softly. “I'm so sorry.”

“No, don't. It was my fault.”

“It wasn't,” Castiel said. “You didn't choose your powers. You didn't choose to hurt her.”

“But I didn't learn to control them, either,” Sam said, burying his face in his hands. “Never warned her about...what I was.  I thought...I don't know what I thought. That they'd just go away if I ignored them? That because I got away from my family the nightmares wouldn't follow me anymore? I was so _stupid_. It was my fault.”

Castiel didn’t know what to say. Nothing he said was going to change Sam’s mind about himself so easily. Nothing he could say would make it better.

Impulsively, he wrapped his arms around Sam in a tight hug. Sam stiffened for a moment, then hugged back.

When he pulled back, Sam’s eyes were moist, but his face was still dry. “So, uh,” he said, his voice cracking. “We move a lot because of me. Because I can’t keep it under control. I do what I can to try to keep my mind clear, make it as easy as I can. I exercise a lot, keep a good diet, you know. It helps, but...something always happens. And I’ve hurt people. I haven’t gotten anyone killed besides Mom and Jess, but I’ve still hurt people. Sometimes...I think Dad should’ve just...”

“Sammy, you seen my keys?” Dean yelled from the hallway.

Castiel frowned and glanced over to where the TV usually sat. The keys were lying there on the carpet where Dean must have dropped them when he carried it into his room. Sam shook his head with a small smile and got up to take them to him.

Dean came out of his bedroom a minute later still buttoning up his shirt. “Cas, you need me to take you home before work, or can your sister get you again? Shoulda set an alarm, I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Castiel said. “If Sam doesn’t mind, I’d like to stay here for a little while.”

“Fine by me,” Sam said with a shrug.

Dean grinned. “Okay, awesome. I gotta go.” He pulled Castiel up off the couch and into his arms, kissing him long and slow. Castiel sighed happily into his mouth.

Sam cleared his throat loudly.

Dean chuckled. “I really do gotta go. I’ll text you. Later, Sammy!” He rushed out the door. A moment later they heard the slam of the Impala’s door and the roar of her engine, then Dean was gone.

Sam turned his attention back to Castiel.

“So, you want to do anything specific? I can bring the TV back out here if Dean’s room isn’t too gross.”

Castiel smiled. “I can get it, if you want it. But I had another idea, if you would be comfortable with it. Don’t feel pressured, please.”

Sam raised his eyebrows. “Uh. Okay. What?”

“I’d like you to meet my sister.”

—————

Anna burst in without knocking this time. “Hey, Cassie!” She said, enveloping him in a tight hug. “You have fun last night?”

“Yes, I did,” Castiel said solemnly. “But I need your help for something serious, please.”

“Serious? Did...something happen? Do I need to hurt someone?”

Castiel shook his head. “No. Sam?”

Sam shifted his weight nervously. “Hi, I’m Dean’s brother,” he said, holding out a hand for Anna to shake. She grinned and shook her head, pulling him into a hug too.

Sam blinked at Castiel, who shrugged.

“She’s very physical,” he mouthed. Sam nodded.

“Well, what do you need from me?” She said, settling into the sofa and kicking back.

“Sam has a sort of...unique problem, and I believe you may be able to help him.”

Castiel explained the situation as delicately as he could, glancing at Sam occasionally to make sure he hadn’t said anything wrong.

“Oh, Sam,” Anna said. “I’m sorry. Of course I’ll help. I’ll do what I can, anyway. C’mere. Sit with me.”

Sam stepped forward hesitantly, looking back at Castiel.

“I have to touch you for this to work,” Anna sighed. “C’mon.”

Sam finally sat down, still looking uncomfortable.

“I’m gonna show you what I do first, so you know what it feels like,” she said. “Okay?”

Sam nodded. She laid her palm gently against his cheek and closed her eyes. Sam gasped and smiled suddenly. Anna grinned.

“See? Not so bad, huh?”

Sam laughed, shuddering when she pulled away.

“That’s...that was interesting,” he said.

She smirked. “Anyway. What I think I want to do is kind of...well, like strengthening a muscle, okay? I’m gonna trigger some negative emotions, _very_ gently, and you’re gonna resist. I’ll go really slow at first, and you say stop if you feel like you need to.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Sam whispered.

She shook her head. “You won’t. I promise, if you tell me you need to stop or I feel like something’s going wrong, I’ll pull you back. Put you back in that happy place you just were, okay?”

Sam took a deep breath and nodded. Castiel watched as Anna laid her palm on his cheek again, and they both closed their eyes.

He hoped very much that this worked out well for Sam, and he was glad he’d thought of it. But standing here watching this was not going to be very entertaining.

As quietly as he could, he snuck back into Dean’s room and put Sleeping Beauty back on.

—————

Over the next couple months, Anna and Castiel both became a regular fixture at the Winchesters’ apartment. Gabriel dropped by occasionally, invited or not.

“I think we should move on to a bit more of a challenge,” Anna said one morning after breakfast, before she and Sam would normally practice.

“Like what?” Sam said warily.

“Have you ever been able to use your powers _voluntarily?”_ Anna asked.

“What? No, why would I want to do that?”

“I think you’d have better control of them if you knew how to use them when you wanted to.”

“I think she’s right, Sam,” Castiel said over his coffee — which he was in no way addicted to now, no matter how much Dean teased him about it. “If you know how it feels to use it purposefully, you’ll know better how to control it and handle it when you need to.”

Sam sighed. “Dean?”

“What they say goes, Sammy. If you don’t trust their judgment by now...” He shrugged.

“Yeah, okay, you’re right,” Sam sighed. “But not here.”

Anna rolled her eyes. “Duh.”

—————

The field they stood in couldn’t really be called a _field_ , in all fairness, but that was kind of the point. No dry grass to set aflame, no houses around for a few miles — they really couldn’t have found a more appropriate place for this.

Gabriel had managed to tag along and was “watching the show” from his perch on the trunk of the Impala. Dean had growled under his breath, but had long since given up trying to tell Gabriel what to do.

“Okay,” Anna said. “Now you...uh. Go for it.”

Sam raised his eyebrows. “Go for it? That’s all you got?”

Anna shrugged. “I dunno, I have no idea how you get it started. I could _make_ you mad, but it’d really be a lot better if you could do it when you weren’t. Maybe we have to work up to it, though.”

Sam sighed. “Gimme a minute. I’ll try.”

Dean stood behind Castiel, his arms wrapped around his shoulders, face tucked into his neck. His nose was cold, but Castiel couldn’t bring himself to mind. It was so rare that Dean got a day off from both jobs, and he relished every moment they got together.

“If we were only alone out here,” Dean purred into his ear. “Love to get you in the backseat of Baby with me.”

Castiel shivered pleasantly and tilted his neck in silent invitation. Dean grinned and pressed soft, quiet kisses to the skin. They had both been delighted to learn that Castiel had a _very_ sensitive neck.

Sam grunted in frustration in front of them. “I don’t — I don’t even know what I’m trying to do. It’s like I’m reaching for nothing.”

Gabriel hopped off the trunk, sauntering over. “Maybe you need a target,” he suggested.

“Oh, yeah, so glad we brought some of those with us,” Sam said. “Oh, wait, we didn’t.”

“Don’t get pissy with me, little man,” Gabriel said. He twirled his hand.

Six bales of hay appeared in the dirt in front of them.

“Oh,” Sam said sheepishly.

“ _Oh,”_ Gabriel mocked with a smirk. “Now get on with it.”

Sam squared himself off and tried again, breathing deeply and furrowing his brow. He stared hard at one of the illusions directly in front of him. He reached out a hand towards it.

The air between Sam and the bale crackled faintly with light sparks, but nothing else.

Sam groaned and covered his face with his hands.

“No, no,” Anna said. “You did _something,_ come on. Even if it wasn’t a lot, something happened.”

“Maybe a little more incentive,” Dean called out. “Go with clowns, Gabe!”

Sam’s eyes widened, but before he could open his mouth to protest, Gabriel shrugged and the bales transformed into tall, grinning clowns, in full pancake makeup and rainbow wigs, with wide smiles and rubber noses.

Sam flung his hand out in terror, a thick bolt of lightning arcing between himself and the ground where the illusions stood. Gabriel let them dissipate with a grin.

Anna smiled, clapping Sam on the shoulder. “Very nice.”

Sam whimpered.

—————

Another month of training with both Anna and Gabriel, and Sam could call on his powers from a state of complete calm, and resist Anna’s influence at full force for a little longer every day.

“I gotta work tonight,” Dean said the day Sam broke five minutes. “But tomorrow night? We’re gonna celebrate.” He clapped Sam on the shoulder. “Proud of you, Sammy.”

Sam grinned widely, still exhausted, but looking happier than Castiel had ever seen him.

“I need to pick up some of my stuff from home tonight,” Castiel said as Dean was leaving for work. “Anna can drop me off when she leaves for Jo’s. I’ll come back tomorrow morning.”

“You know,” Dean said shyly. “You spend so much time here, you could...ah, nevermind.”

“What?”

“It’s stupid.”

“No, _what?”_ Castiel said, narrowing his eyes and stepping in front of him to block his path.

“You could just move in here,” Dean mumbled, looking away.

Castiel grinned. “I’d like that.”

Dean’s face lit up as he met Castiel’s eyes again. “Yeah?”

“Of course,” Castiel said. “I would love to spend more time here with you. I love you, you know.”

Dean froze. Castiel’s eyes widened. _Shit._ Was Dean not ready to hear that? It had been _months_ now, though. Did Dean not feel the same way?

“Now?” Dean said. “You say that _now?”_

Castiel furrowed his brow in confusion.

“Right when I’m going to work,” Dean continued. “I wanna drag you back in the bedroom now and I have to go to _work.”_

Castiel grinned in relief. “I guess we’ll have to make up for it tomorrow.”

Dean pulled him into his arms and kissed him, slowly and thoroughly, until Castiel felt like jelly in his arms. “Love you too, Cas,” he whispered.

Castiel buried his face in Dean’s chest, grinning uncontrollably.

Dean chuckled and pressed a kiss to the top of his head, then ruffled his hair. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said. “Maybe I can borrow Jo’s truck and we can bring over whatever you’ve got left at the house.”

“I’d like that,” Castiel said with a smile before finally letting him go, watching out the window as he left, winking back at Castiel before he drove off.

Castiel went into Dean’s — their? — room and threw himself on the bed, seized with the urge to roll around, to laugh, to shout, _something_ to let out this feeling bubbling up in his chest. He had never been so happy in his life. He had never felt so loved, so wanted. He had Dean, he had Sam, he had their friends, and he’d never felt closer to Anna and Gabriel. And now he was moving out, finally getting away from the rest of his family entirely.

Everything was _perfect_.

—————

He waved at Anna as she drove off, opening the door and slipping inside. Hopefully, nobody would notice him coming in.

Nobody was in the front room, thankfully, and he made it up the stairs successfully.

He didn’t want to have to explain the handful of cardboard boxes they’d picked up from the Roadhouse that he’d brought in tucked under his arm.

He hummed happily to himself as he packed. It didn’t take very long, given most of what he owned was books. Most of his essentials had ended up at the brothers’ house already anyway.

After a few hours his stomach rumbled, and he decided to chance the kitchen. For the most part his mother and older brother seemed to ignore him when he was around anymore, as though he was now beneath their notice. He couldn’t find it in himself to care.

He continued humming as he went down the stairs, lost in thought.

When he reached the living room, he stopped dead.

His mother sat serenely on the couch facing the stairwell, sipping a cup of tea. Flanking her were two Institute representatives, dressed in full black suits, with...guns in their hands?

“Hello, Castiel,” she said. “We need to talk.”


	4. Chapter 4

“The hell’s got you so cheerful tonight?” Jo said, knocking into Dean playfully as he walked past.

“Cas is movin’ in with us,” he grinned.

“I thought he basically lived with you already.”

“Well, now it’s gonna be official. And he can move the rest of his stuff in tomorrow, if I can borrow your truck for a few hours?” He flashed her his most charming smile.

She shrugged. “Yeah, sure.”

“And...” he looked away, biting his lip.

“And _what?”_

“And he said he loves me,” Dean said quietly.

When he looked back Jo’s smile was wide and genuine.

“Man, I’m really happy for you guys,” she said.

“Now when’re you gonna ask Anna to move in with you?” he said with a grin. She flushed and looked down at her hands.

“I guess...maybe it’d be a good time to ask now, huh? With Castiel moving out and all. Just say it...got me thinking about it?”

“Even though you’ve been thinking about it for over a month now?”

“Oh, shut up.”

—————

His shift at the club dragged tonight. For whatever reason, Cas wasn’t texting him back.

Maybe he was regretting what he said earlier? Maybe he had decided he didn’t want to move in after all and he didn’t know how to tell Dean?

“ _are you mad at me babe? did i do something?”_

An hour later and still no answer.

Maybe he’d just fallen asleep.

Even though he was dead tired from work, Dean couldn’t fall asleep until nearly dawn. He’d gotten too used to having Cas snuggled up in the bed next to him, and at the very least, if he wasn’t there he always texted to say goodnight. But Dean’s phone was silent, the blank screen staring back at him until he finally drifted off, exhaustion overtaking him.

Cas didn’t answer all of the next day either. Sam learned quickly to stay out of Dean’s way while he stomped around the house.

“If he didn’t want to move in he could have just _said_ so,” he said finally. Sam looked up from his book.

“Why would you assume that was it?”

“What else would it be? Things have been going fine for months, then I ask him to move in and suddenly...nothing.”

Sam frowned. “Actually...he hasn’t been responding to me either.”

Dean swallowed hard. Cas wouldn’t ignore Sam’s texts, even if he was upset with Dean. Sam was his best friend.

“I’m sure he’ll text later,” Sam said quietly.

“Yeah,” Dean mumbled. “’Course he will.”

The next morning Dean couldn’t handle it anymore. He called Anna.

“Dean?” She answered. He was too tense to notice at first that she was practically whispering.

“Hey, Anna, have you seen Cas? He hasn’t answered me or Sam since he left here with you, and I’m gettin’ really worried.”

“No,” she said. Even as quiet as she was, he could hear the waver in her voice. “I came here to look for him, and...I — I can’t talk while I’m in the house. I need to get out of here. I’ll call Gabe and we’ll meet you guys at the Roadhouse to talk, okay?”

“Sure,” Dean said, chest tight with worry.

“Sammy, c’mon. We’re going out,” he called into the living room.

“What for?”

“To figure out what the fuck happened to Cas.”

They waited for Anna and Gabe at the diner for two hours. Dean tried calling both of their phones every few minutes, but nobody ever answered. Eventually, the calls started just going to voice mail.

“Shit,” Dean said. “Shit, what the hell is going on?”

“We need to get out of here before Jo gets here for her shift,” Sam said quietly. “Unless you want to have to explain to her that her girlfriend’s missing when she asks why we’re here and not eating.”

 _Missing_. The word punched a hollow in Dean’s chest, and he could barely breathe around it.

Cas was _missing._

—————

They pulled up outside the house — mansion, really, in Dean’s opinion. No lights were on inside, but Dean tried to tell himself it was just because it was daytime.

He hoped he still remembered how to pick the more expensive locks.

On instinct he tried the door handle first, and was shocked into stillness when it worked and the door swung open ahead of him. He glanced back at Sam, who looked about as worried as he felt.

They went inside quietly, years of practice walking noiselessly on their side, but it quickly became apparent that they were alone anyway.

He and Sam split up, Sam searching the eastern side of the house while Dean took the west. He went up the stairs slowly, feet light, still compelled to stay quiet. The silence of the house was oppressive, and he still couldn’t shake the feeling he was being watched.

The first door he came to was Gabriel’s, he was sure. Candy wrappers littered the floor, a pile of brightly-colored clothes spilled out of the open closet, and on every wall hung at least two mirrors. He started to smile before he caught himself and remembered why he was here.

“Gabe?” he hissed, hoping his friend was just playing invisible like usual.

“C’mon, Gabe, please. If you’re in here you gotta tell me. This is serious.”

When no response came, Dean swallowed hard and shut the door with a soft click. The room across the hall was a bathroom, and the next a linen closet. So the far door must be...

Dean took a deep, shaking breath and turned the handle. As soon as he stepped into the room his heart ached — it smelled so much like both of them. Anna’s bed had obviously been unused for a long time, and that he already knew, but Cas’...it was made neatly, tucked tidily in at the corners, and didn’t look like it had been touched for a long time. A thin cloud of dust spiraled into the air when he tested it, slapping the comforter lightly.

Cas hadn’t slept here in weeks.

His heart sunk as he looked around his feet, taking in the boxes. He’d been packing.

He’d really wanted to move in with Dean. He’d meant it when he said yes.

Dean couldn’t swallow around the lump in his throat. He wiped his eyes hard, willing himself not to break down — not here, not yet. When he opened his eyes again he caught sight of something on the floor behind the boxes, something Cas must have taken off and tossed aside while he packed.

His trenchcoat.

Dean picked it up with trembling hands, clutching it close to his chest. His eyes watered dangerously as he breathed in Cas’ scent.

Something heavy in the pocket caught his notice as he rolled it up carefully to take with him. He reached inside and pulled out Cas’ phone, flicking on the screen to see all of his own messages sitting unread in Cas’ inbox.

He stared at it for a long moment before shaking his head. He left the room to go find Sam and get out of there. What they were searching for wasn’t here anymore.

—————

When they got home, Sam opened them each a beer out of the fridge and they both sank down on the couch in defeat. Dean had never felt more lost or helpless, not even when he’d woken up alone in the hotel room those few years ago to find that his father had finally abandoned him completely.

Sam fiddled with his bottle for a minute before sighing in frustration and grabbing the remote. He clicked aimlessly through the channels while Dean sat there, staring down at Cas’ jacket, trying his hardest to think and coming up with nothing.

“We have the privilege of welcoming the esteemed Mrs Lilith Novak herself today, here to share with us an inspirational story of overcoming adversity…”

Dean’s head snapped up to face the television as Sam turned the volume up. This must have been the local news Sam had stopped on — Dean recognized the park behind the stage as one he and Cas had walked through not too long ago on one of Dean’s rare days off, eating their ice cream in happy silence and watching the teenagers playing Frisbee.

“Yes, thank you,” Lilith said as she stepped up to the microphone, smiling sweetly as she looked over the audience. “As everyone here no doubt already knows, our youngest son, Castiel, has been through…so much already in his short life. We have faced, as a family, the many challenges that have come along with his delayed presentation of powers, and overcome so many obstacles and difficulties together, from those who would do him harm for his status to those who have pretended to be his friends to take advantage of his vulnerability and innocence.”

Dean scoffed, taking a gulp of his beer.

“But we have stood behind him,” she continued. “And we are proud to say that today, Castiel has reached his magical maturity, as we always believed he would. But he hasn’t done it alone.”

Castiel himself stepped onto the stage, flanked by two men in dark suits. Sam gasped.

Dean’s heart dropped into his stomach. That was Castiel, but it wasn’t _Cas_. His face was blank, his eyes dead and devoid of emotion.

What had they _done_ to him?

“We would like to thank the marvelous researchers and educators at the Institute of Magical Rehabilitation for working with Castiel to make this possible,” Lilith continued. “Remember, if you’re struggling, if you feel alone and you don’t know what to do, the Institute will _never_ give up on you. They believe in you, as do we. And now, Castiel…”

She motioned to him, and he stepped forward next to the podium stiffly.

“Castiel would like to demonstrate for you the amazing gift he has manifested, a gift he has pledged to share with the people of this community. Now, we have a volunteer with us today — also a very sad story of adversity, but today a story that will become one of joy and hope. As many of you know, Ms Wilson was in a terrible car accident six months ago, and as we can see…”

A young woman stepped onto the stage timidly, ducking her head to keep her face hidden in shadow.

“It’s okay, sweetheart, don’t be shy,” Lilith said, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and leading her to the center of the stage. The camera zoomed in on the girl’s face as she finally looked up.

The left side of her face was covered in a webbing of scars. Her left pupil was clouded and opaque.

“This young lady suffers from chronic pain and nerve damage as well as permanent blindness in one eye and the scarring she will be left with for the rest of her life,” Lilith said, squeezing her shoulder comfortingly. “Though I know we can all agree that she is still absolutely lovely just as she is.”

The crowd burst into applause at that, and Lilith beamed out at them.

“Christ, she’s good,” Sam said under his breath. “If I didn’t know better…”

Dean grunted in agreement, not taking his eyes off of Castiel, standing deathly still behind his mother.

“Now, Castiel, come up here,” Lilith said. “And show them what you can do.”

The camera switched to one closer to the stage, and they watched as Castiel approached the girl, reaching out to touch her face. She flinched away at first, but Castiel didn’t react — didn’t respond at all.

That wasn’t Cas. He would’ve comforted her. Would have talked to her. Would have made her feel comfortable and safe.

Finally, with a glance back at Lilith, the girl relaxed and allowed him to touch her skin.

There was a burst of bright blue light, then silence.

When the camera adjusted from the flash of light, Sam gasped.

The girl’s face was smooth and unblemished. Her pupil was clear and dark, and her eyes were wide in shock. Hands shaking, she touched her face, trembling fingers tracing over her new, healthy skin.

She began to sob, throwing herself into Castiel’s arms.

Then all they could hear was cheering, whistling, clapping — as Lilith smiled fondly out at the audience.

Castiel had caught the girl, but he stood unmoving, looking vaguely into the distance as she wept into his shoulder.

Lilith moved to the podium to speak again.

“Turn it off,” Dean growled. He covered his face with his hands, shoulders shaking.

What the hell had they done to Cas? What kind of fucked up trick was this?

And how the _hell_ was Dean going to get him back?

—————

The next few hours were spent in silence while Sam attempted to research the Institute and the Novak family. There was nothing for Dean to do, after the calls Sam asked him to make to the library and the college, which Dean realized after the fact were mostly just Sam trying to keep him busy. Even Sam knew he was completely useless right now.

The first time Cas really _needed_ him, and Dean had failed him already. After he’d done so much for Dean and Sam.

He hadn’t realized he was just sitting there, staring down at Cas’ coat, until he was startled into alertness by a pounding on the door.

He and Sam traded cautious glances. With a few hand signals, he let Sam know he was going for the gun safe. Sam nodded, setting his laptop down on the couch slowly.

Before Dean had even made it all the way off the couch, the pounding came again.

“Dammit, Winchester, I know you’re in there!” Jo yelled, muffled by the door.

Dean let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding and went to answer.

She stormed in and whirled around to face him.

“What the fuck was that?”

“You saw the news?” Sam said quietly.

Jo turned to him. “Yeah, and I wanna know what the fuck is going on. What happened to Cas? I thought he said he’d _never_ go to the Institute. And now...?”

“He didn’t go willingly,” Sam said. “We’re sure of it. He’s been gone for a couple days now, and he left his phone and all of his stuff in his room. And...”

Dean braced himself. “And now we can’t find Anna or Gabe either. I called Anna this morning to ask about Cas. She sounded...scared. She said she couldn’t talk to me while she was in the house. They were supposed to meet us at the Roadhouse to talk, but they never showed up, and their phones are dead. We went to their house, and it’s completely abandoned.”

He expected anger, expected her to be furious they hadn’t told her immediately, but when she turned to him again her eyes were wide. “Wh-what?”

He pulled her in for a hug, shocked when she accepted it easily and clung to him tightly.

“What are we gonna do? Dean, I never,” she said, voice cracking. “Never told her I loved her. I thought it’d make her uncomfortable, y’know? I was supposed to be this one-time thing, and then it was supposed to just be _casual_ but it never really was...and after I talked to you yesterday, I started thinking, and I love her, I really fucking love her, and I just need her to know...Dean, what if...?”

“She’ll be fine,” Dean said firmly. “They’re all gonna be fine, and we’ll get them back.”

She looked up, eyes watery. “How?”

Sam sighed. “We don’t know yet. I’ve been trying to find out more about the Institute but it’s like...it’s as if it doesn’t exist outside of their own site and ads. Either nobody’s trying to talk about them, or...they’ve got people monitoring the Internet, taking down anything they don’t want out there.”

“They can _do_ that?” Dean asked.

“Not legally, but,” he shrugged. “They have the resources if they wanted to. And I can’t find anything more than we already knew about the Novak family, either. It’s one big black hole.”

“Okay,” Jo said with a shaky breath. “I think I know someone who can help us.”

—————

If Dean didn’t know Jo was just as invested in this as they were, he would’ve thought this was a joke. The place she took them was a dingy little building, complete with peeling white paint and sagging, moss-covered roof. He would have written it off as abandoned without a second thought if he’d driven by alone.

Inside, the front room looked about as shitty and worn as the outside had. It looked like it had maybe once been a waiting room, with dusty chairs and a lumpy, ripped up couch against the wall. The window that may once have been a receptionist’s desk was boarded over tightly. Jo opened the old wooden door with a creak, and Dean blinked in confusion when there was another door on the other side — metal, this time, with a pin pad over the door handle.

“It was Ash’s idea,” Jo said as she keyed in a number and led the way inside. From here the building changed dramatically — the tile floors were swept clean and shining and the hallway was brightly lit. “He says the outside deters people from coming in in the first place, then the security system keeps anyone out who gets curious anyway. I say they just wanted a super-secret base and had a lot of free time. They do have a lot of expensive shit in here, though.”

They turned the corner into a large, brightly-lit room covered in posters — movies, shows, games, pin-ups (and was that seriously a map of Middle-Earth?) — and filled with tables, where a small group of people were spread out with laptops.

“Jo!” One girl sprung up from her seat, nearly yanking her headphones off her head when she forgot to unplug them. She pulled them off and ran over, pulling Jo into a hug.

“Dean, Sam, this is Charlie,” Jo said. “She’s, uh...a friend.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. Jo flushed.

“Okay, she’s my ex,” she mumbled.

“You got a thing for redheads, huh?”

“Shut _up,”_ she hissed, slugging him in the shoulder.

Charlie grinned. “Well, Dean, Sam, welcome to the Batcave!”

“Holy shit, are those seriously the schematics to the Millenium Falcon? ” Dean muttered.

“Uh huh. Enterprise is over there,” she pointed. “We try to keep them separated to keep the arguments down.”

“Which Enterprise?”

Charlie beamed at him. “Oh, I think we’re gonna be good friends, you and me.” She turned to Jo. “So, is this just a social visit, or do you need something? I was really surprised you texted, I haven’t seen you down here since...well, you know.”

Jo nodded sadly. “Yeah, I...we need help. And if anyone can do this...”

Between the three of them they explained as well as they could. Charlie’s eyes grew wider as they talked.

Some of the other people in the room were watching them, probably listening in, but Charlie assured them that they were all safe and trustworthy, and anyway, they could probably help, too.

She went around the room making introductions and setting tasks — most of it went over Dean’s head, but from what he understood they were going to try to recover any information they could that had once been online and been taken down, and to search using tools Sam had never even heard of to unearth any surviving sites the Institute might not have found in the first place.

“Ash, Kevin, you guys are on the family. Garth, Gilda and I are gonna work on the Institute. Garth, go for financial records. See who’s funding them, who owns it, all that. Gilda, find some history — I wanna know who started it, how long it’s been there, anything. As for me, I’m gonna try to find out about the place itself, maybe get some floor plans and an idea of the security.”

Sam was fascinated, moving from screen to screen, watching over shoulders as they worked. Dean took a chair leaning against the wall and waited. He was getting really fucking tired of being useless about now. Part of him wanted to look around some more, but he knew he’d feel too guilty enjoying himself here while Cas was missing.

Would Cas like Star Wars or Star Trek better, anyway?

Fuck, he hoped he’d get to find out.

Jo didn’t seem to be much better off, pacing back and forth along the far wall and muttering to herself, shining golden daggers appearing in the air around her and disappearing as she caught them.

“Huh,” Kevin said.

“You got something?” Charlie said, cocking an eyebrow.

“I dunno, not really. Maybe? I don’t think it’s useful right now. It’s interesting, though.”

Dean stood up and walked up behind him. Jo followed, nervously twirling a single blade through her fingers. On his screen was what must have been Cas and Anna as babies, Anna’s hair already tufts of vibrant red in infancy. Holding them was a thin man with a wild, bushy beard, a lost look on his face.

“That,” Kevin said, “is _not_ Richard Novak. This is some guy named...Chuck? It looks like there might have been some kind of affair, and they ended up with Castiel and Anna. He disappears after that.”

“You think they...had him killed or something?” Jo whispered.

“Wow, morbid. No, I found him. He’s still living around here. He’s over on, uh...Carver Street.”

“Hey Sammy,” Dean said with a tilt of his chin. “Wanna go do some questioning?”

—————

For someone who’d apparently had a torrid affair with the matriarch of the richest, most powerful family in the state, Chuck’s house looked...well, like a shithole. Dean made a mental note never to call his own apartment a shithole again, because hey, at least _it_ was clean.

They battled their way up the path, shoving aside the overgrown weeds and dodging the bare branches of the dead tree hanging over their heads.

There was a bicycle near the front porch, but the bush it had once been leaned against had long since grown around it, rendering it completely unusable. The mail box that hung from the wall next to the door was overflowing.

“Maybe he _is_ dead,” Sam muttered.

“That’d be our luck, huh? Guy hangs around all this time then dies of a heart attack or something right when we need him.” He jabbed the doorbell anyway.

There was a crash from inside, as though someone had been startled by the sound and knocked something over.

Sam raised his eyebrows at Dean in confusion. Dean shrugged.

A moment later the door opened a few inches. The same ratty man from the picture peered out at them.

“You Chuck Shurley?” Dean asked before he could speak.

The man’s eyes went wide and he slammed the door again. Dean sighed and rolled his eyes. He pounded on the door. “Come on, man. I don’t have the patience for this today.”

There was no response. Dean gritted his teeth. “Don’t make me break a window, man. We just need to talk to you.”

After another moment of silence, Dean took off his jacket and balled it up around his fist, taking a step towards the curtained window overlooking the porch. “Okay,” he yelled. “Doing it the hard way.”

The door flew back open.

“Wait, wait, stop,” Chuck babbled. “Okay, _jeez.”_

Sam stepped inside to hold the door open while Dean shrugged his jacket back on.

The place was even dirtier inside than he’d thought it would be. It was littered with stacks of paper and empty beer and whiskey bottles, old takeout containers and magazines on every flat surface.

“How the hell did a guy like you ever get Lilith Novak to sleep with you?” Dean said without thinking. Chuck’s eyes bulged out.

“No no, this can’t be happening. I — I never told anyone, I promise. I kept my end of the deal! I’ve been quiet, I swear. Please, please don’t kill me.”

“Deal?” Dean said, narrowing his eyes.

“Hey, hey, we’re not here to hurt you,” Sam said. “We’re uh, friends of Cas and Anna.”

Chuck’s face softened. “Yeah? Wait, how’d you find me? _Why_ did you find me?”

Sam handed him the printout of the picture Kevin had found. Chuck’s mouth dropped open as he stared at it. “How’d you find this?” He whispered. “They didn’t even let _me_ keep a copy of this picture. God, look how tiny they were...”

“Look, Chuck. We’re here because we need your help. Your kids are in trouble. And if there’s anything we don’t know about them, anything that can give us some kind of foothold in figuring out what we’re doing, we need to know,” Sam said.

Chuck’s face fell. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. Sit down and — yeah, just shove the papers off, that pile’s worthless. Tell me...tell me what’s going on.”

—————

By the time they’d finished, Chuck was shaking, head in his hands.

“Your turn,” Dean said.

“Yeah. I...okay.” Chuck took a long drink of the bottle of whiskey that had made its way into his hands over the course of their story.

“About 22 years ago...well, I guess that part’s obvious. I, uh, got a knock at the door. Lilith Novak herself, man. I nearly pissed myself.”

Dean screwed up his face in disgust.

“Uh, sorry. Anyway. She said she had a proposition for me. See, my talent...it’s really powerful. But I can’t control it, you know? It just kinda happens when it happens. But she’d heard of me, I guess, and she wanted...she said she wanted to have another kid, and my genes were very, uh, desirable, I guess. She wanted a kid with really strong talents. So she’d pay me a small fortune to get her pregnant, we’d part ways, and I would never tell anyone for the rest of my life or she’d have me killed.” He shrugged. “We didn’t, uh, actually sleep together, you know. I just...donated.”

Dean made another face at the thought.

He looked down at his bottle, knee bouncing anxiously. “I only got to see them this once, right after they were born.” He tapped the printout on his lap. “They were so _little_. Twins always are, I guess? But they...Anna was so curious. They told me she couldn’t really see much yet, but I don’t know, she was trying to look at everything, I swear. She never stopped moving. And her hair...I’ve seen her on TV. She’s got my mom’s hair, you know? And Castiel has my eyes. Him, he just...he just stared at me. I know they can’t recognize faces that young, but I swear, he just kept staring at me. Felt like he was looking right into my soul.”

He sighed, rubbing his hand over his face. “They kicked me out of the room, then. Sent me the check in the mail. I just...I deposited it and I haven’t really touched it. I dunno. It didn’t feel right anymore, now that they were really there. If I could, I would’ve given it all back if I could just...have my kids instead.”

The room was quiet for a few minutes. Dean stared down at his hands. He wanted to say something, anything, but nothing came to mind. What could he possibly say to this? He’d come here preparing to hate this guy, whoever could have walked out on Cas, and instead...shit.

“Can I ask,” Sam said quietly, “what your power is, exactly? What made you so, uh...desirable?”

Chuck huffed a laugh. “I see the future.”

Dean’s head snapped back up, eyes wide.

Chuck shook his head. “Don’t be too impressed. Like I said, I can’t control it. It comes to me sometimes whether I like it or not, and I only get bits and pieces.  Sometimes it's years away, sometimes I'm only seeing it a few seconds before it happens.  Joke’s on her anyway, I guess. Magic strength might be genetic, but it can also skip a generation.”

“What do you mean?” Sam asked.

Chuck smiled. “My dad was powerless.” He shrugged. “Never made a difference to my mom.”

Sam smiled, glancing over at Dean. Dean wanted to smile at that, but he couldn’t manage it. Not now.

Sam sighed. “Well, if that’s all you can tell us, we should go. Keep trying to find them.”

“Yeah. Yeah, give me your number too, okay? I’ll call you if I...see anything, I guess.”

“Is that likely?” Sam asked.

Chuck shrugged. “Dunno. But it is possible, at least.”

After they had saved each other’s numbers, Chuck looked up at Dean hesitantly. “And...will you call me and let me know they’re okay? When you find them?”

“Yeah,” Dean said gruffly. “’Course we will.”

Chuck stood silently outside his door as they left. Dean glanced in his rear view mirror once right before they turned off the street to see him still standing there, staring after the car.

—————

Charlie pounced as soon as they came in.

“Where have you been? Nevermind, come on.” She grabbed them both by the hands and dragged them over to her laptop.

“So, I don’t think anyone’s surprised to find out the Novak family owns the Institute, but what _is_ surprising is that they’re almost broke.”

“The family, or the company?” Sam asked.

“Both,” she said, grinning gleefully. “That seems to be where most of the family fortune came from in the first place. The Institute has been here longer than the city has. The city was kind of...built up around it. But nobody knows that anymore. Anyway, it’s been drying up for the last, like, decade or so, because things have been getting better for the powerless, you know? More protections written into law, more awareness, anti-bullying campaigns in schools, all that. So families aren’t shipping their kids across the country for the Institute to fix up for them anymore. Business is down.”

“I can’t get into some of this stuff, it’s encrypted pretty tightly, but from some references I found in their other files...they’re the source of those power chips.”

Sam’s eyes bulged. “The ones you buy off the street? Why would they do that?”

She shrugged. “I guess those are the rejects or something. Everybody knows they only give shitty powers, like, I dunno, turning things purple when you touch them, or making water bubble by looking at it, or spoon-bending or whatever.”

“I _knew_ it,” Dean muttered to himself. Sam glared at him.

“But anyway, the more respectable ones are the ones they keep for their...clients. As far as I can tell they put them through a bunch of bullshit exercises and some strict diet, and then a couple weeks in — and ten or twenty thousand in tuition and room and board later — they knock them out and implant the chip. They never know it happened, they just think they woke up and finally had their powers.”

“So what’s this have to do with Cas?” Dean said. Charlie looked up at him hesitantly.

“Like I said, I can’t get all the way in. But I...I think they’ve been working on some experimental new chips for a couple years. More...powerful ones.”

Sam frowned. “Like, maybe...incredibly powerful healing?”

She swallowed hard. “Yeah. Like that. But they’re really unstable,” she shook her head. “There are like, tons of deaths they’ve covered up in here. It seems like every time they try to go the next step up in power, people start to...overload.”

“And one of those is in Cas right now,” Dean said, clenching his jaw.

Charlie just looked at him sadly, sympathetic, as though Cas was already gone, and there was nothing more they could do now.

Well, _fuck_ that.

—————

“You _cannot_ just go in there,” Charlie huffed. “I should _never_ have looked up the floor plans.”

“They have Cas,” Dean said. “There’s no fucking way I’m just leaving him there. Nothing’s gonna stop me from getting him back, you hear me?”

“I — I won’t give them to you.”

“Okay, you’ll just make it more dangerous for us,” he shrugged. “I’m gonna go anyway.”

“ _Ugh,”_ she said, pressing her hands to her forehead. “Okay, fine. If you’re gonna go be the big heroic idiots, I guess I can do what I can to keep you from getting killed.”

She sighed and plopped back in her chair. “I’ll get you a printout of the floor plan, but you better _study_ it before you go in. I have some security footage too, if you wanna see what you’ll be up against in there.”

She brought video after video up on the screen, showing long, brightly-lit hallways, guards posted around every corner.

“Guys, this is such a bad idea,” she whispered, looking back at them pleadingly.

“Yeah,” Dean said with a shrug. “But it’s the best we’ve got.”

“Can you do anything from this end? Like, disable any of their security or anything?”

“Uh, no. That’s a little...beyond the scope of what I can do.”

“I can!” Ash piped up, waving his hand from across the room.

Sam raised an eyebrow. “How could you do it if Charlie can’t?”

Ash wiggled his fingers. “Because I, my friends, am a human electromagnet. Get me close enough and I can knock out every computer they’ve got.”

“Awesome,” Dean said. “Anyone else got anything that could help out here?”

Charlie shook her head. “Sorry. I could help if you needed something translated? But no.”

Sam perked up, looking at her with interest. “You have a talent for languages?”

“Yup,” she said proudly. “I can speak and understand any language. And I mean any. Including Klingon and Elvish.”

“Nice,” Dean muttered.

“Yeah, it’s pretty awesome. I can’t read them, though, which sucks. Kevin’s the one who can _read_ any language. But he can’t speak them or understand them spoken, so...” she shrugged.

“That’s...that kind of makes you guys like soulmates, right?” Sam said.

Kevin choked on air. He shook his head and hunched over his laptop, muttering darkly, but Charlie laughed. “That might work if I wasn’t a lesbian,” she said. “Anyway, do you really believe that crap? That people have to have _compatible powers_ to work together?”

Sam shrugged, looking away uncomfortably. “I guess that is pretty stupid, huh?”

She smiled. “Yeah, it is. I mean, Gilda and I have been together for almost a year, and making plants grow doesn’t have much to do with understanding languages.”

Garth turned out to have a talent for ventriloquism — he adamantly insisted that it was _not_ ventriloquism, though Dean had no idea what else you’d call projecting voices into inanimate objects.

“Okay,” Dean sighed. “So we got me, Sam, Ash, and Jo going. I got that right?”

Charlie frowned, chewing at her bottom lip. “I wish there was more I could do. Dammit, you better not get yourself killed. I’m starting to get attached to you guys already.”

“We’ll do our best,” Dean said softly, pulling her into a hug. She sniffled into his shirt, then took a deep breath to settle herself and hugged Sam. She squeezed Jo’s hand a little awkwardly, and traded Vulcan salutes with Ash.

“All right,” Charlie sighed, handing Sam the printout of the floor plan. “Godspeed, folks.”

—————

The Institute was about an hour away at the other end of the city. Sam spent the drive going over the map over and over, trying to predict where the guard would be the least concentrated, where the building might be the most vulnerable. He was no closer, though, to figuring out _where_ exactly they’d be going, where Cas, Gabe and Anna would most likely be held.

They parked half a mile away and walked the rest of the way, conversing quietly.

“Okay,” Dean said. “Ash, how close do you need to be?”

“I’ll know it when I feel it, but it’s gonna depend how deep in the building the security system is housed. We just gotta get closer. I’ll keep my feelers out for it.”

Dean could hear his heart pounding in his ears as they approached. The building appeared to have no windows, but that was no indication that they weren’t being seen. Of course they’d have security cameras.

He was buzzing with anxiety by the time they got within fifty feet of the far wall. There, as on the map, was the door to the kitchens — the only entrance not behind the tall fences — two dumpsters sitting next to it.

“Now?”

“Almost,” Ash said. “But, uh...sorry, hombre, I think I’m gonna have to get right up against the wall.”

Dean closed his eyes and tried to breathe slowly, tried not to let himself get irritated. Of course it wasn’t Ash’s fault. They were lucky he was even here to help.

“Okay. Let’s get this done.”

They jogged the rest of the way, figuring if they were going to be seen, they would have been seen already, and all they could do now was move as quickly as they could.

Finally, Ash sighed in relief as they got up next to the door.

“Okay, I can handle it here. Would be a little easier to hold it from inside, maybe. But I can start out here.”

“Hold it?”

“Yeah. See, it’s not like a real electromagnet, where you wipe it once and it’s gone. Once I stop, they can turn it right back on like I was never here. You think I’m gonna do it once and run? They’re gonna be trying to kick it back online, man. I gotta be here to stop it. I’m not doin’ this halfway.”

“You can’t protect yourself once we go in,” Dean hissed. “What if they find you?”

“Jo,” Sam said softly. “I’m sorry, I really am, but we’re going to need you to stay behind with Ash.”

“What? No fucking way,” Jo hissed.

“You _know_ we’d rather have you with us,” Dean said. “But we’re not gonna let Ash just sit back here and get killed because we all want a part of the action.”

“Then one of _you_ stay behind!”

“You know Dean and I are going to work better together, Jo,” Sam said. “And anyway, Dean’s more vulnerable alone without defensive powers like either of us, and I’m the one who has the floor plans memorized. We can’t risk either of us staying behind.”

“Bullshit,” she hissed. “This is bullshit.”

“Yeah, it is,” Dean said. “And I’m sorry. But this is what we gotta do.”

She swallowed hard and pulled Dean into a tight hug. “Don’t you dare get yourself killed. And you get them out of there, okay? I have a lot of stuff to say to Anna when this is all over.”

“We ready?” Ash said patiently.

At Dean’s nod, Ash closed his eyes and tilted his head back. Dean felt nothing. He wasn’t sure why he was expecting to.

The locking mechanism on the kitchen door clicked quietly as it released. With one last look behind them, they slipped inside. They found themselves, as expected, in the kitchen. The room was empty and dark.

Ash made himself comfortable on one of the counters.

“You good here?” Dean asked.

Jo nodded, swiping her hand through the air. Two glittering, golden blades appeared before her. She caught one in each hand and twirled them through her fingers. “I’m good. Go get ‘em.”

—————

The halls were dark, their softest footsteps echoing in the dead air no matter how quiet they tried to be. After a few long, tense minutes, Dean sighed in frustration.

“This feel familiar to you?” He whispered.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, like the house. You think they abandoned the place? Because it’s that or they knew we were coming and we’re walking into a trap.”

“Cheerful thoughts, Dean. I love your optimism.”

Dean flipped him off. They kept moving.

“Okay, this next fork should take us into one of the gyms. On the other side are the hallways leading to the main entryway, and the dorms and medical block are on the other side of that. That’s our best bet.”

The door to the gym squealed horribly when Dean wrenched it open.

“Fucking hell,” Dean muttered. “Think guys this rich could afford some WD40.”

“Dean,” Sam whispered, eyes wide.

“What?” Dean said. He followed Sam’s gaze to the center of the gym.

“Sam! Dean!” Gabriel called out happily. “Nice of you to join us!”

“We were beginning to think you’d forgotten us,” Anna said.

Sam smiled in relief, moving to walk towards them.

“Sam, wait,” Dean said, throwing his arm over Sam’s chest. “Something ain’t right.”

“Oh, not as dumb as you look after all, hmm?” Gabriel giggled.

“Still pretty dumb,” Gabriel’s voice said from much closer. The whoosh of air was all that warned Dean in time to duck before the blade swept through the air where he’d been.

Gabriel — what he could only assume was the real Gabriel — appeared next to him, shaking his head with a wide smile. “You can only dodge for so long, Dean-o,” he said.

A blast of rock hit Gabriel in the chest, knocking him backwards. Sam cursed as he disappeared again.

“Shit,” Dean panted. “How the fuck do we fight the Invisible Man?”

“Leave him to me,” Sam muttered. “You go for Anna. I’ll keep him away from you.”

“Right. Just...fuck, don’t let him kill you, obviously, but don’t hurt him if you can help it,” Dean said as he got to his feet.

“’Course,” Sam nodded. “Now _go.”_

Dean started jogging away across the gym. When he glanced over his shoulder Sam had his eyes closed, his nostrils flared out, and his palms out flat. His eyes snapped open, and he shot a weak lightning bolt out at an apparently empty spot right behind Dean.

“Fuck!” Gabriel yelped, voice uncomfortably close.

“I don’t wanna kill you, Gabe,” Sam called out, voice low and strong. “But if you hurt Dean, I will. No second warnings. You have to go through me if you want to get him.”

Hysterical giggling filled the air, thankfully heading the other direction.

“Fine. You wanna play, Samsquatch? Let’s play.”

Dean turned his attention back to Anna, who was standing unsettlingly still, waiting for him to approach.

“Hello, Dean,” she said softly, almost fondly.

“Anna,” he whispered. “Don’t do this.”

“It’s okay, Dean,” she said. “This is how it has to be. This is how it ends.”

“No,” he growled. “This isn’t you. Come on, Anna. Jo’s waiting for you outside.”

He could swear he saw something pass over her face — some faint flicker of emotion. Then it was gone.

“I’m sorry,” she said flatly. Before he could react, her hand shot out, grabbing him by the throat.

His desire to struggle faded before he could even reach his hands up to try to pull hers off.

 _Worthless. Useless,_ echoed through his head in his own voice. _Daddy couldn’t even stand to be around you, could he? You failed him, just like you failed Sam. Just like you’re failing Cas. Worthless._

Anna flinched as a loud crack rang out from the other side of the room. Dean wrestled for control of his own mind, stumbling backwards out of her reach. He tripped and fell back, gasping for air.

Anna shook her head. “You’re only making it harder on yourself.” She reached out for his hand, smiling gently when he scrambled backwards. “I don’t even have to work very hard, you know. It’s all right there under the surface. You already know exactly what you are. What you’re good for.”

He rolled to the side as she swiped for his leg.

“You can’t save him, you know,” she said. “You think you’re going to get him out of here and protect him from us? Hide him in that dingy little apartment you hole up in? What’ll you do when they come for him? _Please_. Save yourself the heartache. I’ll make it quick.” Dean scrambled backwards again. He glanced over his shoulder at Sam — still upright, still fighting, but sweating and panting with the effort. Dean’s stomach burned with guilt when he saw what Gabriel was using against Sam — clowns. Of course. And _he’d_ been the one who gave Gabriel that ammunition against Sam.

_Shit._

Sam caught his eye through a gap in the crowd of illusions. He glanced upwards, just a flicker of the eyes, but it was enough. Dean winked in return.

He rolled to the side again and bounced up to his feet.

“Where do you think you’re going to go, Dean?” Anna said calmly. “There’s nowhere to run.”

“Oh, sure there is,” Dean said. He danced back out of her reach again, listening carefully behind him. He just had to trust that Sam wouldn’t let Gabriel get near him.

Finally he made it back to Sam’s side, Anna trailing patiently after him.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she said. “Aren’t you done fighting yet? You both look so... _tired_. I think it’s time to rest, now. Finish it, Gabriel.”

Sam’s magic ceased, Dean held his breath, and for a second there was complete silence.

Then the faintest giggle as Gabriel lunged for them.

Sam tucked his arm through Dean’s as they both ducked and rolled, Sam sending a blast of fire backwards to propel them towards the center of the gym. He twisted himself around and swung his hands into the air, palms pointed at the ceiling.

A sickening crack rang out, and Anna swung back to look at them with wide eyes.

With a groan that shook the building, the roof caved in between them. Dean clamped his hands over his ears and watched in awe as Sam twisted his hands, shifting the rubble as it fell, so that instead of spreading out across the gym floor it settled in a tall pile, blocking off that corner of the gym completely from the rest of it.

Sam and Dean lay panting as the dust settled.

“We get ‘em both back there?” Dean croaked.

“Shh,” Sam said, closing his eyes to listen for a minute. “Yeah. Yeah, we’re good. Come on.”

They stumbled to their feet and jogged through the next set of doors into the hallway. Dean hissed as he looked over his arms at the raw, lightly bleeding patches where his skin had skimmed the gym floor as Sam shot them across the room. Better than the alternative, at least.

“Shit,” Dean mumbled. “They can’t get to us now, but they can sure as hell get to Jo and Ash.”

Sam’s eyes widened in alarm. “Wait a second,” he said. He swung the door open again and listened.

Faintly, they could hear the rubble shifting.

“We’re coming,” Anna called out in a singsong.

“Sit tight, kiddos,” Gabriel yelled. “We’re not done here.”

Sam let the door swing closed behind him again and let out a long sigh. “They seem pretty fixated on us. I think Jo and Ash’ll be okay for now. Let’s keep moving.”

Dean nodded, clapping his less-skinned hand onto Sam’s shoulder.

“That was fucking amazing, you know,” Dean said. “Proud of you.”

Sam grinned back, face coated in sweat and dust, and for a second he looked so much like the happy little kid Dean had raised that his breath caught in his throat.

—————

“Okay, next doors should open into the main hall, then it’s a straight shot across to the eastern wing.”

“Awesome,” Dean said. “Okay, let’s see what’s behind door number two.”

They swung the double doors open together.

“Ah, you finally made it,” Lilith said from her seat on a floral couch next to a fireplace at the back of the room. “I was beginning to think you weren’t going to come for him after all.”

Dean stood gaping in shock for only a moment before his face twisted in anger. “Where is he?” He growled.

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic. He’s right here.”

Dean blinked and took a slow step into the room. It was hard to make out in the dim light, but there was Castiel, standing against the wall, silent and staring into the distance. Next to him was Michael, leaning casually against the wall with a smirk.

“Cas!” Dean yelled. Castiel’s face twitched, but he didn’t move.

“Okay,” Sam said slowly. “So we know you’re going bankrupt. We know about the power chips. What I don’t get is why you let us get this far. You called off all your guards. And Gabriel never really tried _that_ hard to kill us — he was too noisy. He let me know exactly where he was the whole time, like he was just playing with me. Wearing me out _. Why?”_

“They weren’t _going_ to kill you, sweetheart. They were going to disable you and bring you to us. But you came either way, I suppose. I’ll just have to do some of the dirty work myself.” She closed her eyes and smiled softly.

“What the hell?” Dean muttered.

Sam grunted in pain next to him.

“Sam?” Dean yelled in alarm. “What the fuck are you doing to him?”

“She’s in my head,” Sam gasped.

“Don’t struggle, sweetheart, you’re only going to hurt yourself. Just relax.”

“No,” Sam groaned. “No, no, shut up, _no.”_

“That’s what you do? You control people? Jesus, that’s what you did to them. Your own _kids._ That’s sick,” Dean spat.

“But sadly, I can only control people with _powers,_ ” she smiled softly. “Which is why I am going to have your brother disable you first, so we can get _your_ power chip installed. Then you’ll both be mine.”

“Yours? For _what?_ ”

“We know how powerful Sam is, Dean. The range of his control is...unprecedented. How many forms of destruction is he capable of, hmm? What secrets can we unlock using his DNA? Business is down these days, you know. But war? War will _always_ pay. And now _we’re_ making the weapons.”

“Oh, yes, and as for you,” she smiled condescendingly. “Well, you were going to come along with him one way or another. And Michael has been asking me for his own servant for such a _long_ time now. I think you’ll do nicely.”

When Dean looked over at Michael, he was leering, eyes trailing up and down Dean’s body. Dean shuddered.

“Kind of think I’d rather die, but I appreciate the offer,” Dean said.

Sam dropped to his knees, clutching his head.

“I won’t,” he gasped. “I won’t hurt Dean.”

Lilith sighed. “I don’t have time for this. All for one pathetic, powerless little freak. Michael, would you like to get him yourself?”

Michael smiled. “With pleasure.”

He was gone in an instant, and Dean felt strong hands wrenching his arms behind his back.

“So pretty,” Michael purred in his ear. “I’m looking forward to this.”

Dean slammed his head back into Michael’s face, smirking in triumph when he heard a sickening crunch. Michael cried out and stumbled backwards. When Dean turned around, he was holding his hands to his face, nose pouring blood.

“Sorry, Mikey,” Dean said. “I’m already taken.”

“You little bastard,” Michael spat.

“Oh, that hurts,” Dean said, backing away with a mocking smile. “And I thought we were getting to be such good friends.”

Michael disappeared again, but this time Dean whirled around, ready for him. When Michael blinked back into sight, Dean was already midswing.

There was another sickening crack as Michael’s jaw snapped. He wailed brokenly and flickered out of sight, reappearing behind his mother again. She sighed and whispered something. Castiel reached a hand out absently and touched Michael’s cheek, and with a flare of white-blue light his face was whole again. His mouth and chin were still coated in blood.

“You got a little something, uh, right around here,” Dean gestured to his own face, smirking.

Michael glared at him. “I changed my mind. I can do better than him. I want him _dead.”_

Lilith shrugged. “Whatever makes you happy, sweetheart. Castiel? It’s about time I got my money’s worth out of you.”

No. Oh, no.

“What’re you gonna make him do, heal me to death?” Dean chuckled nervously.

Castiel stepped forward, unsheathing a long, silvery blade.

“Or that. That works.” He swallowed hard, backing away as Castiel approached. “Cas. Cas, c’mon, it’s me. Don’t do this.”

Castiel darted forward, faster than Dean had anticipated, and swung, his fist catching Dean in the cheek. The force of it knocked Dean to the ground. He looked back up and yelped, rolling out of the way just in time to dodge Castiel’s downswing.

“Please,” Dean said, scrambling to his feet. “Please, Cas, you gotta still be in there. I _know_ you are. You’re stronger than this.”

He dodged another swipe of the blade, but not the high kick that followed, slamming him backwards into the wall. Dean struggled to get his breath back, blinking hard.

“Dean!” Sam cried out.

Instinctively Dean dropped to the floor at Sam’s voice, the blade clanging as it struck the wall above his head.

He could still hardly breathe, hardly move. Every time Cas swung the blade, he managed to dodge, but every time he was a little slower, a little weaker. Cas finally managed to catch him in the side with a fist again, and a second later Dean was blinking up at him dazedly from the ground. His muscles failed him as he tried to struggle to his feet again.

“Cas,” he gasped. “Please. I love you. I need you to hear me, Cas. You gotta fight this.”

Castiel’s eyes were cold and empty as he swung the blade down one last time. Dean tried to roll away again, covering his chest protectively, but he no longer had the strength. The cool steel blade plunged into his stomach.


	5. Chapter 5

Yelling. Someone was yelling.

Did he know that voice?

No matter. He had followed his orders. He was a good soldier.

Castiel yanked his blade back, twisting it on the way out to ensure the wound remained open, and looked down at the body at his feet.

The body. Whose body? He should _know_ this.

Blood. There was blood on his blade. Whose blood?

He frowned.

_Blood._

“ _Cas,”_ the body coughed.

Whose blood?

“Dean!” The other voice sobbed.

 _Dean_. Dean’s blood. Dean’s blood on the blade. Dean’s body at his feet.

Castiel blinked, trying to focus his eyes. The voice in his mind called to him soothingly, ordering him to stop trying. Relax. Let go.

But this was important. _Dean._

That name meant something.

Something warm, and soft, and good. How long had it been since he felt warm? The blade in his hand was so cold. He looked down at the blood on it again in sudden disgust and dropped it.

“ _Cas?”_ The body said again. The body. Dean’s body. _Dean_ said.

Dean’s body dying on the ground.

Castiel blinked hard, wrenching away from the calm, peaceful voice in his head. He had to _see._

Sam was crumpled on the ground across the room, hands cradling his head. Was he crying? What could make Sam cry?

Castiel looked back down and gasped. He dropped to his knees.

“Dean,” he cried.

Blood poured freely from a gaping wound in Dean’s abdomen, more flowing from a wide split in the skin over his left cheek, the eye nearly swollen shut on that side.

“Oh, god, Dean, what happened?” He reached out for Dean, freezing when he saw the blood smeared on his own hands. “What did I...did I do this to you?”

“Not you,” Dean murmured. “Her.”

Castiel looked up in horror to see his mother watching him impassively. The fury that flared up in his chest was quickly smothered when Dean coughed weakly again.

Castiel turned back around and gathered Dean in his arms as carefully as he could. “Pressure,” he muttered. “I’m supposed to...put pressure on it. Right? Dean?”

Dean chuckled hoarsely. “Not gonna matter now. Just...don’t let go, okay?”

“No, no, no,” Castiel whispered, clutching Dean tightly. “I was just packing. I fell asleep. I’m dreaming. You’re going to call soon and I’m going to wake up and you’re going to laugh and tell me it’s all okay.”

Dean smiled tiredly up at him. “Sorry, Cas.”

“ _No,”_ Castiel sobbed.

He looked up sharply when he heard Sam struggling to his feet behind them.

“Sit _down,”_ Castiel’s mother said sharply, a note of panic in her voice. Sam staggered back, hand flying to his head again, but he stayed upright.

“Not as strong as you think,” Sam gasped. “Trying to control too many people. You’re wearing down, aren’t you?”

“So clever,” she snapped. “Too bad it won’t bring your brother back.”

“Fuck you,” Sam growled. He threw up his hand. Castiel whipped his head around just in time to see the fire behind his mother pour out of the fireplace, licking across the floor and up over her couch in an instant. She threw herself off of the couch, scrambling to get away, but the flame followed her. She landed sprawled out on the floor, screaming as the fire engulfed her.

“Mother!” Michael cried out in anguish. A tongue of the flame shot towards him, but he cursed and vanished before it made contact. Castiel turned his head back away, bending over Dean and screwing his eyes shut, trying to block out the terrible sounds of his mother dying.

Even after the screams had stopped, he didn’t dare look. He didn’t want to know what he’d see.

“Fuck,” Sam groaned. He stumbled over on shaky legs and fell to his knees on the other side of Dean.

“You get her, Sammy?” Dean said weakly.

“Yeah,” Sam said. Castiel could see the tears already running down his face. “Yeah, I did.”

“Good,” Dean sighed. “Stormed the castle, killed the big baddie, saved the prince. Got our Disney ending. We did good. You gotta...keep Cas safe, okay, Sammy? Get that...fuckin’ chip outta him before it blows him up.”

“Chip?” Castiel said, looking up at Sam sharply.

“No,” Dean said.

“They, uh,” Sam sniffed. “They implanted you with a power chip.”

“ _No,”_ Dean grunted.

“What can I do, Sam?”

Sam hesitated, looking down at Dean’s face. “You can heal,” he whispered.

Castiel’s eyes shot wide.

“Don’t,” Dean whispered. “Chip’s not stable. It’ll...it could kill you, Cas. Too much to heal. It’ll burn you up.”

“I love you,” Castiel whispered, leaning in to kiss Dean, warm and sweet.

“Please, please don’t,” Dean whimpered. “Sammy, don’t let him...”

Sam’s face was contorted in pain and indecision, eyes darting between Dean and Castiel.

“Sam can’t make this decision for me. I’m not a child, Dean,” Castiel whispered with a smile. “I’m an adult, and I make my own choices, remember? And I choose you. I’ll always choose you.”

He lifted up Dean’s shirt and laid his hand gently over the wound, wincing at the slick warmth that coated his palm. He closed his eyes, reached deep inside himself.

Found a flicker of energy dancing in his chest that had never been there before. Grabbed it. _Pulled._

Turned his focus back to Dean, to his hand on Dean’s skin, and — _pushed._

—————

Hell was total darkness and ceaseless, ear-piercing beeping.

Was this supposed to drive him mad? If he had to be here for an eternity, he supposed, it probably would eventually. It _was_ fairly annoying.

It was sort of anticlimactic, though.

Hell was total darkness and ceaseless, ear-piercing beeping, and a hand on his wrist?

His eyelids fluttered open.

“Castiel,” the woman said in surprise. “You’re awake.”

He squinted at her, waiting for his eyes to focus. The heart monitor beeped on behind her as she continued to check his vitals.

“I know you. Don’t I?” He mumbled.

She sighed. “You do, and you don’t. We’ll talk about it later when you’ve had some more rest, okay?”

“Don’t want to rest,” he mumbled. “Want Dean.” He gasped and struggled to sit up. “Where’s Dean?”

“It’s okay,” she said. “You need to calm down.”

“No,” he yelled. “Is he alive? Where is he? Dean!”

Other people rushed into the room, talking loudly, but nobody was answering him. He kept screaming Dean’s name, struggling against the hands trying to hold him back. His fist connected with something soft, and he heard someone yelp in pain.

Finally, he was firmly pressed back down on the bed. A rubber mask was forced over his nose and mouth.

He screamed into it, muffled, and took a deep breath to scream again.

A wave of dizziness washed over him. He tried to blink it away, tried to struggle, but his limbs were filling with sand and he was so heavy, and suddenly he was falling, falling...

“Dean,” he mumbled. “Need...”

“Shh, it’s okay,” the woman’s voice came. “Sleep. We’ll talk soon.”

—————

The next time Castiel woke, he actually felt fully awake. He squinted around the room, finding it empty this time. He looked over his own body, assessing his chances of escape.

He had an IV in. He winced, remembering a scene from an episode of Dean’s silly medical show where a patient ripped out her own IV. That seemed like the sort of thing that was only a good idea in fiction.

There was a soft knock, and when he looked up, the woman was standing in the doorway again. “Hello, Castiel,” she said. She busied herself with taking his vitals again. He watched her sharply, but let her maneuver him where she needed.

“Naomi,” he said finally.

“Yes,” she nodded, unsurprised. “The last time you would have seen me would have been...oh, I suppose you would have been 9 or 10. They started taking you to a private doctor after that. I turned my focus completely on my research and no longer saw patients beginning around that time.”

He stared at her as she backed away, dropping into a chair.

“First of all,” she said with a sigh. “I want to say I’m sorry. I genuinely thought we were doing the right thing. At first, at least. But I never knew how far it reached until it was...much too late.”

“I thought...at first, I thought we were manufacturing the chips to truly help people who didn’t have their powers. I thought we were a humanitarian organization. I was...naive, to say the least. But I was good at my job, and developed a passion for it quickly. I was so proud of the work I was doing. And I was developing better technology every day, it seems like. Smaller chips, safer implantation, more predictable powers. I thought I was changing the world.”

She looked down at her hands. “When I learned how much we were charging people, I was shocked. And the medical professional in me was horrified to learn that what we were doing was completely without consent or foreknowledge from the patients or their families. But they convinced me it was still for the greater good. That if the public found out what we were really doing, someone else would steal the technology for their own purposes. Corrupt it.” She laughed humorlessly. “And the costs, they said, were necessary to cover the expenses of the program and the manufacturing.”

“It was another few years before I found out we were charging more than ten times the actual manufacturing cost of the chips. And the insertion had become so quick and simple at that point. There was no justification for it.” She shrugged. “But I was on the verge of something big, I just knew it. So I kept my head down. Stayed silent.”

“It took me five years to create the first usable version of the type of chip we implanted in you,” she continued. “The first patient was a volunteer, this time. One of our own researchers. He already had his powers, but he wanted stronger ones. Better ones. It turned out we were right about not mixing chips with real magic. It more or less liquefied him when he tried to use it.”

She shook her head, looking up at him for the first time since she’d started speaking. “I didn’t want to try again. I begged them to call off the program. That was the first time that I know of that one of my chips caused someone’s death, and it destroyed me. I wanted to give up on the experimental chips, go back to what we knew, what we were good at. But somehow, they convinced me to try again. Convinced me that it had just been the interaction, that trying it on someone truly powerless would work. We didn’t have anyone like that in our employ, but I demanded that it still had to be another volunteer, that I wouldn’t be responsible for the death of someone who didn’t sign up for the risks. They humored me, I suppose.”

“The next chip worked wonderfully for a couple of weeks before she started having pain when she used it. I insisted we had to remove it, but they said we couldn’t. We had to observe. Learn from it. She died three weeks later. I found out afterward that they’d taken her in off the streets with promises of food and somewhere warm to sleep, with the caveat that she had to consent to the procedure. She had no real choice.”

“They started becoming...threatening when I protested. I didn’t believe they would really hurt me, I was too important, and nobody could do what I did, but something about that woman...I could never keep my nerve around her. I was ashamed every time I left, but every time I went back the same thing happened.”

“The powers they wanted were becoming more specific all the time. We just...did our best. And they were violent things — horrible powers, turning people into living weapons. But I kept working. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“When they came to me for yours, I...I was so relieved, Castiel. _Healing_. Nothing bad could come from that, surely. I didn’t even think about the battlefield implications at the time. I dedicated myself to it completely for months. I worked on no other projects. I hardly slept. I felt...even if I had done so much wrong by so many others, surely I could begin to atone for it in some small way by making this one chip _perfect.”_

“For all the good it did, I suppose,” she sighed, leaning back in the chair. “It was better than all the previous versions, granted, but it still failed in the end. It simply couldn’t sustain the power surge required to heal such a severe wound, to pull someone back from so near death. It didn’t kill you, though. The failsafe I implemented worked. I had never had a chance to test it before. I had never even shown it to anyone before then. But I was confident in my design, and it worked. And...you’re alive.”

She wiped her hand over her face. “Still, that doesn’t even begin to make up for what I’ve done. Again, I’m so sorry.”

Castiel nodded slowly. He felt too numb to process it all just yet, but something finally clicked in his head.

“She could control minds,” he said slowly. “That’s why you could never stand up to her.”

She nodded. “I know that now. I didn’t then. If I had...” She sighed. “I suppose it wouldn’t have made much of a difference. She would have controlled me anyway. I’m convinced she only did it in such short intervals because she needed me aware and in control for me to successfully do my job. Even she had limits. She can — could — only control so much, I think, and the fine detail my work required was beyond her scope.”

He allowed her a minute of silence with her thoughts.

“Where is Dean?” He said softly.

“He’s at the public hospital. You’re in the medical wing of the Institute. It’s the only place we had the tools for your chip to be removed, and I’m the only one who knew how to do it safely. I don’t know how he is,” she said when he opened his mouth again. “I’ve been here with you the whole time. I can call your sister to tell her you’re awake. I’m sure she knows more than I do.”

A small smile tugged at his face. “Anna’s okay? And Gabe?”

“They’re fine. They were dazed and a little disoriented for a while, but they’re fine now. They’ve come in to visit you every day.”

“Every day? How long have I been in here?”

“Four days.”

He gaped at her silently.

“I’ll go call her,” Naomi said, patting him gently on the shoulder as she left.

—————

“Cassie!” Anna cried as she skidded into the room. She was on him a second later, squeezing him in a tight hug.

“Oh, Cassie, you’re okay,” she said, sniffling.

“Told you he’d be fine,” Gabriel said from the doorway. “You worry too much.” When Castiel looked up, Gabriel quickly wiped his face, though his eyes were still glistening. He winked.

“I’m okay,” Castiel whispered. “Is...?”

Anna’s smile faded a little. Castiel’s chest tightened in fear.

“He’s alive,” she said. “But he hasn’t woken up. You brought him back from the edge, but your chip shorted out before you could heal him all the way. Sam called an ambulance as soon as you passed out. He’d...he’d lost a lot of blood already.”

“But he’ll be okay?” Castiel whispered.

“Sure he will,” Gabriel said. “He’s stubborn.”

Castiel nodded to himself. “I want to see him.”

Anna shook her head. “Naomi says you can’t be moved for at least another three or four days. And even then she wants you in a wheelchair for a little while.” She stroked his hair gently. “I’m sorry. You know we’ll take you there as soon as we can. Hey, maybe I’ll call Sam, okay? See if he can come visit you?”

Castiel shrugged, looking down at his hands. “I don’t know why he would want to. I nearly killed his brother.”

Anna pursed her lips and sighed. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“It was my hands that did it. Nobody else’s.”

She shook her head. “I’ll go call him,” she whispered.

—————

Castiel was too stunned when he actually showed up to say anything. Sam smiled tiredly as he came in and walked over to the bed.

“Hey,” he said. “It’s good to see you awake again.”

Castiel looked away, staring at the wall, eyes burning.

“No, don’t,” Sam said. He took Castiel’s chin gently in his hand and tugged him back to look him in the eyes.

“I don’t. Blame. You. Okay?” Sam said. “Nobody does.”

“I do,” Castiel whispered, eyes stinging.

“Oh, Cas, no,” Sam said, pulling him into a bone-crushing hug.

“You resisted her,” Castiel sobbed into his shoulder. “Why couldn’t I?”

“Because I’d been practicing resisting mind control for _months_ with Anna, Cas. You know that. You’d never had to do it before. And even if she couldn’t force me to hurt Dean, she still managed to disable me to the point where I couldn’t help him fight. And you broke her control in the end, anyway. You broke out of it before she died, remember?”

“It was still too late.”

“No, it wasn’t. Dean would have died in that room if you hadn’t done what you did. You saved him in the end, Cas. That’s what matters.”

“Did I, though? Did I save him? Anna said...Anna said he won’t wake up.”

Sam sighed. “That’s kind of an exaggeration, I guess. He’s not in a coma or anything. He got out of the ICU and off sedation early yesterday. He’s just...sort of in and out of consciousness, and when he’s awake he’s not... _awake_ , really. Not all there. He doesn’t really look at people or respond to anyone. They called it postoperative delirium, probably because of the traumatic injury and how much blood he lost, and then the sudden healing was another shock to his system. It shouldn’t last more than a week at most, though. I think he’s getting better already, personally. The shit he says is still usually nonsense, but it’s getting clearer, and sometimes it makes sense for a minute or two. He’s had one-sided conversations with you and me a few times.”

Castiel smiled weakly. “Really?”

“Yup. And I’m not going to repeat some of the stuff he said to you, and I wish I’d never heard it in the first place.”

Castiel laughed for the first time in — well, it felt like forever.

“See?” Sam smiled. “Dean’s still in there. He’s just taking his sweet time getting back.”

Castiel nodded. “Do you think he’ll forgive me?”

“There’s nothing to forgive, Cas. I promise.”

—————

“You won’t get out of here any faster by rushing this, Castiel,” Naomi said, but a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.

Anna hovered next to the door with the wheelchair, bouncing anxiously on her heels.

“You’re not helping,” Naomi said, raising an eyebrow at her.

Castiel was trying to be calm and cooperate with the discharge exam, but all he could think about was getting to the hospital, seeing Dean.

It felt like it had been months since he’d seen him. Time went horribly slowly in the medical ward. Sam brought him books, but Castiel didn’t have the heart to tell him that they weren’t really _his_ kind of books. He wanted adventures, romances, journeys to the stars — the World War II history books and political biographies Sam brought him might have been interesting enough some other time, but they didn’t do much to dispel the suffocating boredom of the hospital room.

Dean would have known what to bring him.

He bit his lip, forcing himself not to ask yet again how much longer it would be.

“Castiel Novak, I pronounce you fit and well enough to be discharged into the care of your sister.” Naomi smiled warmly. He took the stack of papers from her — discharge instructions, prescriptions, contact information — and allowed them to help him transfer to the chair.

He’d scoffed at the thought of it at first, been convinced he’d let Anna dutifully wheel him out of the building as required, and then he could walk by himself, thank you very much. He felt perfectly capable. While he was lying in bed thinking about it, at least.

When Naomi actually had him stand for the first time for the rudimentary beginnings of his physical therapy, he’d had to seriously reevaluate. He was too weak to stand at all without help.

Naomi would prefer not to be discharging him at all, yet, but she understood his need to be by Dean’s side.

And anyway, Anna had said, if anything went wrong, at least he’d already be in another hospital. Naomi had just stared disbelievingly at her before shaking her head and leaving the room, claiming a headache.

But with the wheelchair tucked in the back of the borrowed van, he was finally on his way, and it would only be another hour before he’d be by Dean’s side again.

Dean _would_ want to see him when he woke up, wouldn’t he?

He would. Castiel had to believe he would.

—————

It was evening when they pulled up to the hospital. Visiting hours were technically over, but they were still the Novaks, for however long that influence would last after the news of what happened got out.

When Anna wheeled Castiel into Dean’s room, Sam was curled up on the padded bench next to the window, reading in the fading sunlight.

“Hey,” he whispered with a smile.

“How is he?” Castiel whispered back.

“Good, I think. He’s not babbling much now when he’s awake, and he’s looking around more like he really sees things. Still not really looking at _people_ , but I think we’re getting there. Not long now.”

Castiel nodded, eyes tracing over Dean’s sleeping form. He looked so peaceful and still — not at all like when he slept at home, splayed out over the bed like a starfish by himself, or limbs curled tightly around Castiel when they slept together. He wasn’t drooling enough, either.

But his chest was moving rhythmically, and the heart monitor beeped steadily.

Sam closed his book and got up, squeezing Castiel’s shoulder. “Hey, why don’t uh, Anna and Gabe and I go down to the cafeteria? We can grab you some coffee while we’re there.”

Castiel smiled up at him, grateful for the chance to be alone with Dean and his thoughts for a few minutes. “Thank you, Sam.”

Anna parked him next to the bed before they left, close enough for him to lean his head on the mattress and take Dean’s hand.

He pressed his cheek to the back of Dean’s hand, savoring the warmth, one more little reassurance that Dean was alive and well and _here._

He was quiet for the first few minutes.

“I miss you,” he said finally. “I didn’t think it was possible to miss someone as much as I’ve missed you. I think I should be grieving for my mother, but I can’t. I don’t feel anything for her right now. Maybe I will later. Naomi says I will. But all I’ve been able to think about is you.”

He sighed, laying his head down, holding Dean’s palm to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to it.

“I’m so worried you’ll send me away. I can’t forgive myself for what happened, but I hope you can. Sam says there’s nothing to forgive. He’s not the one I stabbed, though.”

He closed his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Dean. Please, just come back to me soon. It’s so lonely out here without you.”

He didn’t know how long he sat there, head down and eyes closed, possibly dozing lightly, when Dean’s hand squeezed his.

Castiel blinked in confusion and sat up drowsily.

Dean’s head was turned towards him, and he appeared to be looking straight at Castiel. His heart leapt into his throat. He tried to keep in mind what Sam said, that Dean probably wasn’t actually _seeing_ him, but it was so hard when Dean’s eyes were staring straight into his.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel said, voice shaking.

A weak smile pulled at the corner of Dean’s mouth. “Heya, Cas.”


	6. Chapter 6

Dean cleared his throat roughly. “I have any water in here? My throat’s dry as hell.”

Cas stared back at Dean with wide, disbelieving eyes. “Dean? You’re really awake?”

Dean frowned. “Why wouldn’t I be awake?”

“Oh, god,” Cas said. “I have to call Sam, he’ll...”

“Cas, Cas, hold on,” Dean said, squeezing his hand tighter. “Wait a second.”

The light in the room was dim, but when he looked closer, he realized Cas looked...frightened.

“Cas, what’s wrong? You’re shaking.”

“Dean,” he whispered. “What do you remember?”

Dean blinked. “I remember you healin’ me. You saved my life, Cas.”

Cas shook his head. “I _stabbed_ you,” he said, looking down. “I nearly killed you.”

_Oh, dammit._

“That wasn’t your fault. No, stop it, I don’t wanna hear it. Anna and Gabriel tried to kill us, too — or disable us, _whatever_ — d’you blame them for what they did?”

“I...well, no,” Cas said.

“Tell me why it’s different, then.”

Cas bit his lip in silence. Dean felt triumphant for the half-second it took for him to notice the tears running down Cas’ face.

“Oh, Cas...c’mere,” Dean said, holding his arms open.

“I — I can’t,” Cas sobbed.

Dean frowned. “Is this like some self-punishment kinda thing, or...?”

“No, I really _can’t_ ,” Cas said with a short laugh, sniffling. “Maybe you can’t see it right now, but I’m in a wheelchair at the moment.”

“Shit,” Dean whispered. “I was right, wasn’t I? The chip was too unstable.”

“Yes,” Cas nodded. “But I...it’s a long story, but the chip is out and I’m okay. Just very weak. I’m going to need a lot of physical therapy, but there should be no lasting damage.”

“Can you at least wheel up here a little closer?”

Dean had to help pull, but they maneuvered him up closer to Dean’s head.

“There we go,” Dean said softly, rolling over to his side with a wince, brushing the IV tubing off to the side so it didn’t hang over Cas’ shoulder. “Much better.”

“Your stomach,” Cas said faintly.

“Hurts,” Dean said, shrugging one shoulder. “I’ve had worse.”

Cas raised his eyebrows. “No, you haven’t,” he said flatly.

Dean chuckled. “Okay, I probably haven’t had worse _injuries_. I’ve never had to have an angel rescue me from the brink of death before, but...I _have_ been in worse pain.” He pulled Cas’ hand closer and kissed it softly.

“God, it’s good to see you,” he said. “I was so fuckin’ worried, Cas. I thought I’d lost you.”

Cas smiled softly. “You came to rescue me,” he said, playing with Dean’s fingers. “My knight in a leather jacket.”

“Regular Prince Phillip, huh?”

Cas snorted. “If Princess Aurora awoke from her sleep to stab him with a sword.”

“Well, maybe she shoulda,” Dean said. “Guy goes around violating chicks in their sleep. It’s just creepy.”

That finally got a laugh out of Cas. Dean grinned triumphantly. “There we go,” he said, shuffling a few inches closer to the edge of the bed, wincing.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” Cas said.

“Yeah, yeah. How’m I supposed to kiss you from all the way over here?”

Cas’ face lit up in something like surprise.

“You thought I wasn’t gonna want to be with you anymore, didn’t you?” Dean said quietly. “You thought I was gonna blame you for what happened.”

“I...I don’t know what I thought,” Cas said. “It doesn’t matter. I was wrong.”

“Damn straight,” Dean said. He reached out his free hand to cup Cas’ chin, ignoring the twinge in his stomach as he lifted his arm.

Cas sighed happily and pressed into the touch. For the first time since Dean had woken up, Cas looked relaxed. Content. He stared back at Dean with his wide, blue eyes, glittering in the dim light...

“Why, your eyes are like sapphires, sparkling so bright,” Dean murmured, smiling.

“Very poetic,” Cas whispered shyly. “But it is not quite Shakespeare.”

Dean laughed, turning to bury his face in the pillow. “Can’t believe you actually memorized that _.”_

“I liked it very much,” Cas said.

“So am I your Prince Phillip, or your alley cat?”

“If it helps, you’re a very _handsome_ alley cat.”

A gasp in the doorway startled them both, and Dean yelped in pain as he twisted automatically to look.

“Dean, you’re awake!” Sam said.

“Why’s everyone keep sayin’ that?” Dean grumbled, running his hand gingerly over his stomach.

Sam laughed, shaking his head. “I’m gonna get the nurse, and we can tell you everything, okay?”

Dean glanced back at Cas and raised an eyebrow.

“Short version is, you had emergency surgery, you’ve been in the hospital for about a week and a half, you’ve been delirious since the operation, now you’re not.”

“Oh,” Dean said. “Sounds simple enough.”

Amazing how Sam could take something so simple and make it sound so _complicated_. As if Dean was interested in the mechanics of the situation right now.

He sighed and turned his head back towards Cas while Sam was rambling. Cas’ eyes were fluttering as he struggled to stay awake, head resting on the mattress. Dean yawned just watching him.

Or maybe he was still pretty tired himself.

“Hey,” he whispered, squeezing Cas’ hand.

“Mm?” Cas looked up at him.

“Love you.”

Cas grinned sleepily. “Love you too.”

He was asleep within minutes, and Dean followed shortly after, lulled by the familiar sound of Sam’s voice.

—————

When Dean blinked awake, Cas was no longer resting next to him on the mattress. He swung his head up to look around the room in panic.

There — someone had lifted him up onto the padded bench and tucked a blanket around him. He was sleeping peacefully. Dean sighed in relief and let himself relax back onto the bed. He ran his hand idly over his stomach, tracing the texture of the dressings.

Man, that thing was starting to _itch_.

After a few minutes he got bored and began to look around, hoping to find a remote to the nice flat-screen TV hung up on the wall. His eyes caught on his phone first.

Someone had thoughtfully left it plugged in on the tray next to him.

When he lit up the screen, his eyes bulged in surprise. There was no way he could have 102 text messages.

No fucking way.

Except — apparently he could, and most of them were from Charlie. He settled in comfortably and started from the bottom up.

“ _I hope you don’t mind I found your phone number. Don’t ask me how! Well, if you survived this thing, you can ask me all you want. Please tell me you survived.”_

“ _I still haven’t heard anything and I’m kinda freaking out here. If I find out you’re totally fine and just ignoring my messages I’m gonna kill you.”_

“ _I’m not really gonna kill you. Maybe I’ll kill you in D &D.”_

“ _Okay, maybe I’ll force you to play D &D with me, let you get really attached to your character, and _then _kill them.”_

“ _Have you ever played D &D?”_

Dean grinned as he scrolled through the rest. Kevin and Garth had texted him too, just brief texts to hope he was okay. He was beginning to worry, wondering why he didn’t see either Jo or Ash’s names, but relaxed when Charlie brought them up.

“ _Jo tells me you’re gonna live. I’m not supposed to tell you she cried when Sam called.”_

“ _Oops.”_

“ _I did not tell you Jo cried. These are not the droids you’re looking for.”_

“ _Does that work over text? Anyway, I don’t know why I’m still texting you now that I know you’re okay but also unconscious and not reading them, but I’m on a roll.”_

“ _Besides, hospitals are boring. Now when you wake up you have some reading material. Sort of.”_

“ _It’s really awkward watching your ex and her new girlfriend making out. I think they forgot I was in the room.”_

“ _I guess I can’t really blame them. If I thought Gilda might be dead or something I’d probably forget anyone else was in the room when I saw her again.”_

“ _They’re arguing about something. They’re standing between me and the door. Help me, Dean.”_

“ _Jo just told Anna she loved her and they’re both crying and hugging. Someone should be filming this.”_

“ _Oh thank fuck, they left. I’m saved.”_

“ _JO TOOK MY CAR. I’M STRANDED.”_

“ _ASSHOLES.”_

Dean was surprisingly disappointed when he reached the end of her messages. He wanted to text her back, but noticed there was one notification left — a voice mail.

He shrugged to himself and hit play.

“Hey, uh, Dean. It’s Chuck. So I’m calling to say I saw some of what happened, and — wow. That was intense. Do you think you’d mind if I used some of that in a story? ‘Cause I’m not much good at action, and I...no, wait. What I’m really calling for is to ask...well, now that Lilith is gone...I dunno. Maybe it’s not a good idea. There are still other Novaks out there, I guess. It could still be dangerous. But...I could’ve lost them both without ever getting to meet them as adults. I would’ve hated myself forever, you know? I already kinda hate myself for not being in their lives in the first place. But, uh. Anyway. Could you ask Castiel and Anna if they...want to meet me, maybe? It’s okay if they say no. I’ll understand. But just...could you ask? Um, thanks.”

He set the phone down by his leg and frowned, looking over at Cas’ still form.

He’d wait until Anna got here. He wasn’t _avoiding_ the talk. He wasn’t dreading Cas’ reaction to finding out the kind of guy his father was, the circumstances of his birth. He just didn’t want to tell it twice. Right?

Yeah. Sure.

—————

The next time Dean woke up the room was full of quiet voices. He cracked his eye open to see Anna sitting next to Cas, letting him lean on her, while Sam and Gabe talked in the corner.

Cas’ smile was small but warm, and Dean just sat for a minute, staring at him, drinking in the sight of him.

“Well good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” Gabe said, and suddenly all eyes were on him.

“Wrong movie,” Dean yawned. “What time is it?”

“Almost noon, you big lump.”

“No wonder I’m fuckin’ starving,” Dean groaned. “I need a burger. Not want, _need.”_

Sam sighed. “Not sure you’re allowed yet.”

“Oh, come on. What am I gonna do, eat so much I pop my stitches? It’s been over a week already, right? And _you_ said my stomach wasn’t damaged.”

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Cas curling in on himself, looking down at his feet. Shit. If Cas was going to feel guilty and shut down every time they talked about Dean’s injuries, he was gonna have to be a lot more careful what he said.

“You know what? I’ll go ask the nurses, okay?”

“Yeah, uh, take Gabe with you, okay?”

“What? Why?”

“I have something to talk to Cas and Anna about.” Dean looked at Sam pointedly.

“Wh — _oh_. Oh, yeah, okay. You sure?”

“Yeah, Sammy, I’m sure,” Dean said, tapping his phone. Sam’s eyes flicked downward to catch the motion and he nodded.

“Okay. Come on, Gabe.”

“What, I don’t get to hear this? Is it some big secret?”

“Gabriel,” Sam said firmly. Gabe stiffened at the use of his full name, eyes wide. “Let’s _go_. They will tell you later if they want to.”

Cas and Anna looked confused and wary by the time Sam and Gabe left the room.

“Dean?” Cas whispered. “What’s wrong?”

“No, no, it’s nothing bad. I mean, I dunno how you’ll feel about it but, uh...it’s nothing bad. I swear.”

Anna helped Dean figure out how to sit the bed up straighter, and he took a deep breath.

“So, while we were looking for you...I met your dad.”

Anna frowned. “Dick? He’s in India right now.”

“No,” Dean said, staring at Cas, whose eyes were wide. “Your real dad.”

“I was right?” Cas whispered.

“Yeah, Cas. You were. And I — I went there thinkin’ I was gonna hate the guy who could abandon you, but...it wasn’t like that. You can hear it from him, if you want. He called me while I was out, I guess. Left a message. He wants to meet you both, if you’re okay with that.”

Anna looked shocked and angry, shaking her head, but Cas just stared.

“You got his eyes,” Dean said softly.

“Yes,” Cas said, nodding hard. “Yes, please, I want to meet him.”

“Well I don’t,” Anna growled. “How do you know he’s really our dad? You don’t think anyone would try to cash in on our name? Don’t be stupid.”

“I can have Kevin bring you the photo of him holding you as babies,” he shrugged. “Or ask Chuck to bring his copies of the contract papers. Or you can trust that I wouldn’t _tell you this_ if I wasn’t absolutely fucking sure. I wouldn’t do that to you, _either_ of you.”

“ _Contract papers_?” Cas mumbled.

“Fine. Say he is our dad. And he’s been gone for over twenty years, and _now_ he wants to meet us?”

“Anna, it’s not _like_ that.”

“It sure fucking looks like it to me. You want to meet him, you’re on your own, Cassie.”

She left as soon as Sam and Gabe came back with the sad news that Dean could have some applesauce or Jell-o if he wanted it, but no burgers. Gabe helped Cas into his chair, quietly confused, while Sam stood back looking sad.

“Anyone wanna tell me what’s going on now?” Gabe griped.

Cas smiled up at him shakily. “I’m going to meet my father,” he said.

—————

Cas had been drumming his fingers nervously on the arms of his wheelchair for twenty minutes now. Dean had to bite his cheek until it bled to keep from snapping at him.

Of course he was nervous. Anyone would be nervous.

But _fuck_ if that wasn’t an annoying sound. If Cas were anyone else right now...

Dean’s phone rang, and Cas jumped, gasping.

Dean glanced at it and frowned when he saw Chuck’s number.

“He’s not coming anymore,” Cas whispered. “Right? He — he changed his mind.”

Dean glanced up at him worriedly and answered.

“Chuck?”

“Uh, hi Dean. Listen, I’m...uh...I’m downstairs, but they won’t let me in. I guess I probably don’t...exactly look respectable, huh? Maybe I should have shaved. Or maybe I should just...go. Maybe Castiel would be better off...”

“I’ll send Sam down, okay? He’s coming to get you right now. Don’t. Move.”

“O-okay,” Chuck said. Dean hung up on him with a sigh.

“He’s here,” Dean said. “But he’s...okay, he’s not gonna be what you’re expecting, maybe.”

“I don’t know what to expect,” Cas said softly.

He was silent and still while they waited. Dean wished he could at least hold him, comfort him somehow. As soon as he was allowed out of this hospital bed, they had a lot to catch up on.

“Hello?” Chuck said meekly as he stepped into the room.

Cas looked up, eyes wide and staring.

Chuck stared back.

Dean chewed his lip to keep from groaning in frustration. Were they seriously going to just stare at each other forever? He could see where Cas got it.

“Castiel,” Chuck finally murmured. “God, look at you. You’re so...grown up.”

Cas’ face closed off and he looked back at Dean. “Dean said you had a good explanation for why you’ve been absent for my entire life,” he said. “I’d like to hear it.”

“Yeah, ‘course,” Chuck said. “And I’m...I’m sorry. If I was allowed, I woulda been there. I watched you guys grow up through the papers all your lives. I...I’d give anything to be able to go back, and...”

“Chuck,” Dean said softly.

“Yeah. Okay. Uh...can I sit down? Thanks.” He took a deep breath. “So, about 22 years ago, Lilith Novak knocked on my door...”

—————

By the time Chuck finished retelling his story, Cas was shaking.

Chuck winced when he looked up and saw the fury on Cas’ face.

“I’ll...should I go? I’m sorry...”

“How could she?” Cas whispered.

Chuck blew out a breath and sat back into his chair.

“How could she do that to us?” Cas said, louder. “She... _paid_ for us? Like she could just have children made-to-order? Well, the joke was on her, wasn’t it? She got a defective product anyway!”

Dean ached with the need to jump out of the bed and curl his arms around Cas comfortingly, but Chuck leaned forward first.

“Oh, hey, no. Can — can I hug you? Is that okay?”

Cas nodded. Chuck exhaled shakily and knelt down on the floor in front of Cas’ wheelchair, putting his arms around him hesitantly, as though he was unpracticed at giving hugs.

“You’re not defective. Okay?”

“She certainly thought so,” Cas mumbled. “So did everyone else except Anna.”

“They were idiots, then,” Chuck said, voice surprisingly strong. “There is _nothing_ wrong with you.”

Cas crumpled, finally, and started to cry. Chuck glanced up at Dean over his shoulder, alarmed.

Dean rolled his eyes. Silently he mimed patting his back until Chuck got the idea.

Dean sat and watched as Cas cried out twenty-one years’ worth of lost time, aching to be over there with him, but knowing he wasn’t what Cas needed right now anyway.

Chuck relaxed enough to rub his back comfortingly, glancing up at Dean now and then to make sure he was doing it right.

All in all, Dean decided he was gonna do just fine.

—————

Sam knocked hesitantly on the door frame when he came back from the cafeteria.

“Come on in, Sammy,” Dean said with a grin.

Cas looked up with a smile from the bench where he was sitting with Chuck, talking excitedly about their favorite books, and Cas listening intently to all of Chuck’s failed story plots as though they were all the most brilliant ideas he’d ever heard. Chuck had resolved several times that he’d try that one again, that maybe all he needed this time was a little confidence.

“I grabbed an extra coffee,” Sam said. “In case?”

Chuck took it with sincere thanks, and Dean couldn’t help grinning as he watched Cas and his father both burn their tongues in their eagerness to get the coffee into their stomachs.

“God, this is bizarre,” Sam whispered as he came to stand next to Dean. “Like, good bizarre. I can’t believe this went so well.”

“Neither can I,” Dean said. “But I’m not gonna question it.”

“Yeah. Now if Anna would just...”

“Hello?” A soft voice came from the doorway. “Gabe asked me to bring in these —”

Anna gasped as she stepped in the room, arm full of what appeared to be a change of clothes for Cas, and saw him sitting on the bench with Chuck. “Dammit, Gabe,” she growled under her breath, backing away.

“Anna,” Cas called out.

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “No, I can’t do this.”

“It’s okay,” Chuck mumbled, looking at the floor. He looked uncomfortable and unsure of himself for the first time in hours.

“But it’s not,” Cas said. “At least — Anna, at least you have to know what happened.”

“I, uh,” Chuck said. “I’ll...I should go. For now.”

Cas’ face fell.

“I’m not leaving for good,” Chuck said softly. “I wanna be part of your life now, if that’s okay. If you want me around. But I...maybe Anna’d feel better if you told her what happened. And she can...decide if she wants to know me then. Okay?”

Cas nodded sadly.

Chuck leaned in on what must have been some brave impulse and kissed Cas gently on the forehead. Cas smiled in surprise.

Anna ducked into the room and over to the other side of Dean’s bed to avoid being in the doorway when Chuck passed.

Chuck waved nervously at everyone as he left, and Dean tried to give him the most confident smile he could.

Cas sighed as he left. “Can I tell you what happened now?”

Anna glanced over at Sam and Dean, frowning.

“I can’t exactly leave the room to give you guys your privacy, you know,” Dean mumbled.

“Fine,” Cas sighed. “Sam, help me in the wheelchair, please. We can go into the garden outside to talk.”

“She should feel lucky,” Dean grumbled after they were gone. “To have a dad that gives a shit about them.”

“Give her time,” Sam said gently. “They’ll figure it out. Now, how about some more applesauce?”

Dean groaned.

When Anna rolled Cas back in a while later, she was quiet. When Dean opened his mouth to ask how it went, Cas shook his head silently. Dean sighed.

Well, he’d done all he could do, and Cas had done all he could do. All they could do now was wait and see.

—————

It was another week of recovery and the beginnings of physical therapy before the doctors were satisfied with releasing him into Sam’s care. Cas stayed the whole time, sleeping on the bench, working on his own physical therapy exercises with Anna’s help at the same time Dean did, in some sort of solidarity. It did make Dean feel a little better that maybe he wasn’t just a wimp for struggling with it if it could reduce even Cas to cursing in frustration.

At least he could walk reasonably well when they left the hospital. Cas was still working on standing up unsupported. Dean did have to stop to lean on Sam now and then, but he made the trip from the hospital doors to the car by himself while Anna loaded Cas up in their borrowed van, and only held back his whoop of triumph until they got in the car where Cas wouldn’t see him do it and think he was rubbing it in.

When they arrived at the apartment, it became quickly apparent that they were going to have a problem. Not only was the door not wide enough to fit the wheelchair, they had to make it up the two cement steps to get there in the first place.

It took both Sam and Anna’s help to get Cas inside and over to the couch before folding up the wheelchair to bring it in.

Cas sat quietly staring at the floor when they were done. Dean sat carefully down next to him and wrapped an arm around him, sighing in relief when Cas leaned into him and tucked his head under his chin.

“God, I’ve missed this,” Dean mumbled into his hair.

“Mm, me too,” Cas said softly.

“Oh, hey, let me up a second,” Dean said. Cas frowned.

“You just sat down. And we haven’t been able to do this in _weeks.”_

“I know, I’ll be right back. Just one second, okay?”

Cas glared up at him but leaned away. Dean struggled to his feet and into the kitchen, grabbing what he needed off the table. When he thumped back down onto the couch, Cas was staring away at the wall.

“So, first off, here’s your phone,” Dean said, handing it over.

“Thanks,” Cas grumbled, tossing it onto the table.

“And this,” Dean said softly, draping the trenchcoat over Cas’ shoulders. Cas blinked in surprise, reaching his hands up automatically to pull it in around himself.

“There we go,” Dean said. “That’s better.”

“You kept it here for me,” Cas said softly.

“’Course. Couldn’t leave it in that house. Had to keep it safe. Y’know, for when you got back.”

Cas finally smiled again, leaning back into Dean’s arms. Dean kissed the top of his head, grinning. “Missed this too,” he said. He leaned in a little lower and carefully kissed the side of Cas’ neck. “And that.”

Cas shivered, tilting his head to bare more of his neck to Dean with a happy sigh.

Dean leaned in to kiss him again, frowning when someone started banging on the door.

“I thought everyone was planning on letting us get settled in before they visited,” he grumbled.

Sam walked back in from his room, confusion on his face, and answered the door. He blinked in shock and stepped back.

Chuck stepped in hesitantly. “Uh, hey,” he said.

Anna peered out from the kitchen where she was raiding their fridge and stiffened. Chuck winced. “Sorry, sorry. I wouldn’tve come, except...I _saw_ that I did, so I had to, and...ugh.” He rubbed his forehead. “Precognition is _hard._ I never know if I’m going to do something _anyway_ or if I’m doing it because I _saw_ myself do it, and that leaves a whole bunch of questions unanswered, like what would happen if I _didn’t_ do it...”

Sam raised an eyebrow at him and he coughed.

“Sorry. But I really am here for a reason.” He looked around the apartment. “I noticed, uh, this isn’t exactly...the ideal place for your recovery. Or for three people to live long-term. A-and no offense,” he said to Dean, raising his hands defensively. “I know you worked really hard for this, and it’s great. But, y’know, from what Castiel has told me and from what I’ve seen, you’ve been working hard for a long time, and I think...you all deserve better.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Dean said.

Chuck shrugged. “Like I said, I never touched any of that money. It didn’t feel right. And now...I can’t think of a better way to use it than on the kids I should’ve been there for in the first place, and...Sam, Dean, you’re family too. Neither of my kids would be here and safe now if you didn’t go after them in the first place. You deserve this too.” He took a deep breath. “How about I buy you a house?”

Dean’s mouth dropped open in shock. Sam stumbled back against the wall, looking like he was going to faint.

“Can it have a garden?” Cas said thoughtfully. “I think I’d like a garden.”

Chuck smiled. “Anything you want.”

—————

It was hard for Anna to stay too cold towards Chuck in the weeks after that, watching him patiently tour house after house with Cas, watching them talk and laugh together, seeing the way he made Cas smile.

Dean knew exactly what was going through her head. She was stubborn, maybe, but if anyone made Sam that happy, Dean knew he wouldn’tve been able to resist warming up to them, either.

It was going to take time, still, but Dean was satisfied that they were gonna get there eventually.

The house they ended up in wasn’t too big, but it sure as hell wasn’t tiny, either.

The TV they ended up with was just big enough, in Dean’s opinion, and after rewatching The Aristocats on it on Blu-ray, Cas was quick to agree.

The bed Dean and Cas ended up with was definitely too big, but they figured out how to make the most of it pretty quickly.

“I keep wondering,” Cas sighed one night. “Where Michael went after...you know.”

Dean shrugged. “I don’t really care. He can go fuck himself.”

“That’s not what I mean. I mean...my mother is dead, yes. But Michael isn’t. And I have other brothers out there, you know. And then there’s...”

“Dick?”

“Yes. The man I grew up believing was my father. Do you really think they’re just going to let this go? Let everything they worked for die so easily?”

Dean frowned. “Yeah. I guess I’ve been trying not to think about that.”

He rolled over and nuzzled into Cas’ neck. “We can worry about it later, anyway.”

“Later?”

“Mhmm,” Dean said, nipping gently at his neck. _“Later.”_

“Oh,” Cas said, shivering. “Oh, I see. Later works for me.”

Dean grinned.

Dean’s phone started buzzing on the bedside table, but he reached over and ignored the call without looking. It was probably just Jo or Charlie or someone with another question about the housewarming party the next day (that Cas had insisted on and Dean was in no way excited about, except that he was already itching to get cooking because he had a big, bright new kitchen to break in). He could call them back.

So he wouldn’t see the voice mail labeled ‘Dad’ until much later that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obviously, I have a sequel planned. I'm also working on a little companion fic for this one focusing on Anna and Jo. I'm pretty fond of this 'verse already, I think.
> 
> Come see me on [tumblr](http://lilypond.co.vu)!


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